THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  ILLINOIS 


LIBRARY 

823 
W 521m 

Cop.  2. 


Return  this  book  on  or  before  the 
Latest  Date  stamped  below. 


MR.  FORTESCUE 


an  andean  romance 


BY 

WILLIAM  WESTALL 

VV\ 


New  Yoke: 

THE  E.  M.  LUPTON  PUBLISHING  COMPANY, 
No.  65  Duane  Stbeet. 


Authorized  Edition . 


r 


TO 

HENRY  VIGNE,  Esq., 

IN  GRATEFUL  ACKNOWLEDGMENT  OF 
MANY  EXCELLENT  RUNS  WITH  HIS  ADMIRABLE  PACK  OF  HARRIERS, 
THIS  STORY  IS  INSCRIBED 
BY  HIS  OBLIGED  FRIEND 

THE  AUTHOR. 


939 1 40 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 


I.— Matching  Green  . . 

• 

» 

• 

k 

. 7 

Ii. — Tickle-me-quick  . 

• 

• 

• 

• 

. 12 

III. — Mr.  Fortescue’s'  Proposal 

• 

• 

• i9 

IV. — A Rescue  .... 

• 

• 

• 

. 26 

V. — Thereby  hangs  a Tale 

0 

. 33 

VI. — The  Tale  begins 

• 

• 

. 38 

VII. — In  quest  of  Fortune 

• 

* 44 

VIII. — In  the  King’s  Name  . 

• 50 

IX. — Doomed  to  die  . 

. 55 

X. — Salvador  .... 

. 6i 

XI. — Out  of  the  Lion’s  Mouth 

• 65 

XII. — Between  Two  Fires  . 

. 72 

XIII. — On  the  Llanos  . 

. 81 

XIV— Caught 

XV. — An  Old  Enemy  . 

• 93 

XVI. — The  Azuferales  . 

. IOI 

XVII. — A Timely  Warning  . 

. no 

XVIII. — A New  Departure 

. 116 

XIX. — Don  Esteban’s  Daughter 

. 121 

XX. — The  Happy  Valley 

. 126 

XXI. — A Fight  for  Life 

• 135 

XXII. — The  Cacique’s  Scheme 

. 142 

XXIII. — You  are  the  Man 

. 149 

XXIV. — In  the  Toils 

. 153 

XXV. — The  Man-Killer  . 

• 

. 158 

XXVI. — Angela 

. 164 

XXVII. — Abbe  Balthazar  . 

• 

. 172 

XXVIII. — I BID  YOU  STAY 

. 177 

XXIX.— T m Abb|’s  Legacy  , 

9 

, 

« 

• 

. 182 

6 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER 


XXX.— The  Quenching  of  Quipai 
XXXI.— North  by  west  . , . 

XXXII.— Found  out  .... 
XXXIII— Grief  and  Pain  . 

XXXIV. — Old  Friends  and  a New  Foe 
XXXV.— A Novel  Wager  . . 

XXXVI.— Epilogue  .... 


PAGE 

. 189 
. 195 
. 200 
. 206 
. 211 
. 220 
* 225 


MR.  FORTESCUE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

MATCHING  GREEN. 

A QUAINT  old  Essex  village  of  single-storied  cottages,  some 
ivy  mantled,  with  dormer  windows,  thatched  roofs,  and  miniature 
gardens,  strewed  with  picturesque  irregularity  round  as  fine  a green 
as  you  will  find  in  the  county.  Its  normal  condition  is  rustic  peace 
and  sleepy  beatitude  ; and  it  pursues  the  even  tenor  of  its  way 
undisturbed  by  anything  more  exciting  than  a meeting  of  the  vestry, 
the  parish  dinner,  the  advent  of  a new  curate,  or  the  exit  of  one  of 
the  fathers  of  the  hamlet. 

But  this  morning  the  place  is  all  agog,  and  so  transformed  that 
it  hardly  knows  itself.  The  entire  population,  from  the  oldest  gaffer 
to  the  last-born  baby,  is  out-of-doors  ; the  two  inns  are  thronged 
with  guests,  and  the  road  is  lined  with  all  sorts  and  conditions  of 
carriages,  from  the  four-in-hand  of  the  wealthy  swell  to  the  donkey- 
cart  of  the  local  costermonger.  From  every  point  of  the  compass 
are  trooping  horsemen,  some  resplendent  in  scarlet  coats,  their 
nether  limbs  clothed  in  immaculate  white  breeches  and  shining  top- 
boots,  others  in  pan  hats  and  brown  leggings ; and  all  in  high  spirits 
and  eager  for  the  fray ; for  to-day,  according  to  old  custom,  the 
Essex  Hunt  hold  the  first  regular  meet  of  the  season  on  Matching’s 
matchless  Green. 

The  master  is  already  to  the  fore,  and  now  comes  Tom  Cuffe, 
the  huntsman,  followed  by  his  hounds,  whose  sleek  skins  and  bright 
coats  show  that  they  are  “ fit  to  go,”  and  whose  eager  looks  bode  ill 
to  the  long-tailed  denizens  of  copse  and  covert. 


8 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


It  still  wants  a few  minutes  to  eleven,  and  the  interval  is  occupied 
in  the  interchange  of  greetings  between  old  companions  of  the  chase, 
in  desultory  talk  about  horses  and  hounds ; and  while  some  of  the 
older  votaries  of  Diana  fight  their  battles  o’er  again,  and  describe 
thrice-told  historic  runs,  which  grow  longer  with  every  repetition, 
others  discuss  the  prospects  of  the  coming  season,  and  indulge  in 
hopes  of  which,  let  us  hope,  neither  Jack  Frost,  bad  scent,  nor  ac- 
cident by  flood  or  field  will  mar  the  fruition. 

Nearly  all  are  talking,  for  there  is  a feeling  of  camaraderie  in 
the  hunting-field  which  dispenses  with  the  formality  of  introductions, 
its  frequenters  sometimes  becoming  familiar  friends  before  they  have 
learned  each  other’s  names. 

Yet  there  are  exceptions  ; and  one  cavalier  in  particular  appears 
to  hold  himself  aloof,  neither  speaking  to  his  neighbors  nor  mixing 
in  the  throng.  As  he  does  not  look  like  a “ sulky  swell,”  rendered 
taciturn  by  an  overweening  sense  of  his  own  importance,  he  is  prob- 
ably either  a new  resident  in  the  county  or  a “ stranger  from  a 
distance  ” — which,  none  whom  I ask  seems  to  know.  There  is  some- 
thing about  this  man  that  especially  attracts  my  attention ; ah.d  not 
mine  alone,  for  I perceive  that  he  is  being  curiously  regarded  by 
several  of  my  neighbors.  His  get-up  is  faultless,  and  he  sits  with 
the  easy  grace  of  a practiced  horseman  an  animal  of  exceptional 
symmetry  and  strength.  His  well-knit  figure  is  slim  and  almost 
youthful,  and  he  holds  himself  as  erect  on  his  saddle  as  a dragoon 
on  parade.  But  his  closely  cropped  hair  is  turning  gray,  and  his 
face  that  of  a man  far  advanced  in  the  fifties,  if  not  past  sixty.  And 
a striking  face  it  is — long  and  oval,  with  a straight  nose  and  fine 
nostrils,  a broad  forehead,  and  a firm,  resolute  mouth.  His  com- 
plexion, though  it  bears  traces  of  age,  is  clear,  healthy,  and  deeply 
bronzed.  Save  for  a heavy  gray  moustache,  he  is  clean  shaved  ; 
his  dark,  keenly-observant  eyes  are  overshadowed  by  black  and  all 
but  straight  brows,  terminating  in  two  little  tufts,  which  give  his 
countenance  a strange  and,  as  some  might  think,  an  almost  sardonic 
expression.  Altogether,  it  strikes  me  as  being  the  face  of  a cynical 
yet  not  ill-natured  or  malicious  Mephistopheles. 

Behind  him  are  two  grooms  in  livery,  nearly  as  well  mounted  as 
himself,  and,  greatly  to  my  surprise,  he  is  presently  joined  by  Jim 
Rawlings,  who  last  season  held  the  post  of  first  whipper-in. 

What  manner  of  man  is  this  who  brings  out  four  horses  on  the 
Fame  day,  and  what  does  he  waqt  >vith  them  all?  Sqgh  horses. 


MATCHING  GREEN , 9 

too ! There  is  not  one  of  them  that  has  not  the  look  of  a two  hun- 

dred-guinea  hunter.  , , . w 

I was  about  to  put  the  question  to  Keyworth,  the  hunt  secretary, 
who  had  just  come  within  speaking  distance,  and  was  likely  to  know 
if  anybody  did,  when  the  master  gave  the  signal  for  a move,  an 
huntsman  and  hounds,  followed  by  the  entire  field,  went  off  at  a 

We  had  a rather  long  ride  to  covert,  but  a quick  find,  a fox  being 
viewed  away  almost  as  soon  as  the  hounds  began  to  draw.  It  was 
a fast  thing  while  it  lasted,  but,  unfortunately,  it  did  not  last  long, 
for,  after  a twenty  minutes’  gallop,  the  hounds  threw  up  their  heads, 
and  cast  as  Cuffe  might,  he  was  unable  to  recover  the  line. 

The  country  we  had  gone  over  was  difficult  and  dangerous,  full 
of  blind  fences  and  yawning  ditches,  deep  enough  and  wide  enough 
to  swallow  up  any  horse  and  his  rider  who  might  fail  to  clear  them. 
Fortunately,  however,  I escaped  disaster,  and  for  the  greater  part  o 
the  run  I was  close  to  the  gentleman  with  the  Mephistophelian  face 
and  Tom  Rawlings,  who  acted  as  his  pilot.  Tom  rode  we  , o 
course-it  was  his  business-but  no  better  than  his  master,  whose 
horse,  besides  being  a big  jumper,  was  as  clever  as  a cat,  flying  the 
ditches  like  a bird,  and  clearing  the  blindest  fences  without  making 

a single  mistake.  ,, 

After  the  first  run  we  drew  two  coverts  blank,  but  eventua  y 

found  a second  fox,  which  gave  us  a slow  hunting  run  of  about  an 
hour,  interrupted  by  several  checks,  and  saved  his  brus  y ta  ing 
refuge  in  an  unstopped  earth. 

By  this  time  it  was  nearly  three  o’clock,  and  being  a long  w ay 
from  home,  and  thinking  no  more  good  would  be  done,  I deemed  it 
expedient  to  leave  off.  I went  away  as  Mephistopheles  and  his  man 
were  mounting  their  second  horses,  which  had  just  been  brought  up 
by  the  two  grooms  in  livery. 

Mv  way  lay  by  Matching  Green,  and  as  I stopped  at  the  village 
inn  to  refresh  my  horse  with  a pail  of  gruel  and  myself  with  a glass 
of  ale,  who  should  come  up  but  old  Tawney,  Tom  Cuffe  s second 
horseman!  Besides  being  an  adept  at  his  calling,  familiar  with 
every  cross-road  and  almost  every  field  in  the  county,  he  knew 
nearly  as  well  as  a hunted  fox  himself  which  way  the  creature 
meant  to  run.  Tawney  was  a great  gossip,  and  quite  a mine  of 
curious  information  about  things  equine  and  human— especially 
about  things  equine.  Here  was  a chance  not  to  be  neglected  oi 


10 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE, 


learning  something  about  Mephistopheles;  so  after  warming  Tawney’s 
heart  and  opening  his  lips  with  a glass  of  hot  whisky  punch,  I began : 
“ You’ve  got  a new  first  whip,  I see.” 

“Yes,  sir,  name  of  Cobbe— Paul  Cobbe.  He  comes  from  the 
Berkshire  country,  he  do,  sir.” 

“ But  how  is  it  that  Rawlings  has  left  ? and  who  is  that  gentle- 
man he  was  with  to-day  ? ” 

“What!  haven’t  you  heard ?”  exclaimed  Tawney,  as  surprised 
at  my  ignorance  as  if  I had  asked  him  the  name  of  the  reigning 
sovereign. 

“ I have  not  heard,  which,  seeing  that  I spent  the  greater  part 
of  the  summer  at  sea  and  returned  only  the  other  day,  is  perhaps 
not  greatly  to  be  wondered  at.” 

Well,  the  gentleman  as  Rawlings  has  gone  to  and  as  he  was 
with  to-day  is  Mr.  Fortescue;  him  as  has  taken  Kingscote.” 

Kingscote  was  a country-house  of  no  extraordinary  size,  but 
with  so  large  a park  and  gardens,  conservatories  and  stables  so  ex- 
tensive as  to  render  its  keeping  up  very  costly ; and  the  owner  or 
mortgagee,  I know  not  which,  had  for  several  years  been  vainly 
trying  to  let  it  at  a nominal  rent. 

“ He  must  be  rich,  then.  Kingscote  will  want  a lot  of  keep- 
ing up.” 

Rich  is  not  the  word,  sir.  He  has  more  money  than  he  knows 
what  to  do  with.  Why,  he  has  twenty  horses  now,  and  is  building 
loose-boxes  for  ten  more,  and  he  won’t  look  at  one  under  a hundred 
pounds.  Rawlings  has  got  a fine  place,  he  has  that.” 

“ I am  surprised  he  should  have  left  the  kennels,  though.  He 
loses  his  chance  of  ever  becoming  huntsman.” 

“ He  is  as  good  as  that  now,  sir.  He  had  a present  of  fifty 
pounds  to  start  with,  gets  as  many  shillings  a week  and  all  found, 
and  has  the  entire  management  of  the  stables,  and  with  a gentleman 
like  Mr.  Fortescue  there’ll  be  some  nice  pickings.” 

Very  likely.  But  why  does  Mr.  Fortescue  want  a pilot  ? He 
rides  well,  and  his  horses  seem  to  know  their  business.” 

He  won  t have  any  as  doesn’t.  Yes,  he  rides  uncommon  well 
for  an  aged  man,  does  Mr.  Fortescue.  I suppose  he  wants  some- 
body to  show  him  the  way  atnd  keep  him  from  getting  ridden  over. 

It  isn  t nice  to  get  ridden  over  when  you’re  getting  into  years.” 

It  isn  t nice  whether  you  are  getting  into  years  or  not.  But 
you  can  not  call  Mr.  Fortescue  an  old  man.” 


MATCHING  GREEN 


II 


“ You  can  not  call  him  a young  ’un.  He  has  a good  many  gray 
hairs,  and  them  puckers  under  his  eyes  hasn  t come  in  a day.  But 
he  has  a young  heart,  I will  say  that  for  him.  Did  you  see  how  he 
did  that  ‘ double  ’ as  pounded  half  the  field  ? ” 

“ Yes,  it  was  a very  sporting  jump.  But  who  is  Mr.  Fortescue, 
and  where  does  he  come  from  ? ” 

“ That  is  what  nobody  seems  to  know.  Mr.  Keyworth— he  was 
at  the  kennels  only  yesterday — asked  me  the  very  same  question. 
He  thought  Jim  Rawlings  might  ha’  told  me  something.  But  bless 
you,  Jim  knows  no  more  than  anybody  else.  All  as  he  can  tell 
is  as  Mr.  Fortescue  sometimes  goes  to  London,  that  he  is  uncom- 
mon fond  of  hosses,  and  either  rides  or  drives  tandem  nearly 
every  day,  and  has  ordered  a slap-up  four-in-hand  drag.  And  he 
has  got  a ’boratory  and  no  end  o’  chemicals  and  stuff,  and  electric 
machines,  and  all  sorts  o gimcracks. 

“ Is  there  a Mrs.  Fortescue  ? ” 

« Not  as  I knows  on.  There  is  not  a woman  in  the  house,  ex- 
cept servants.” 

“ Who  looks  after  things,  then  ? ” 

“ Well,  there’s  a housekeeper.  But  the  head  bottle-washer  is  a 
chap  they  call  major-domo— a German  he  is.  He  looks  after 
everything,  and  an  uncommon  sharp  domo  he  is,  too,  Jim  says. 
Nobody  can  do  him  a penny  piece.  And  then  there  is  Mr.  Fortes- 
cue’s  body-servant ; he’s  a dark  man,  with  a big  scar  on  one  cheek, 
and  rings  in  his  ears.  They  call  him  Rumun. 

“ Nonsense  ! There’s  no  such  name  as  Rumun.” 

“ That’s  what  I told  Jim.  He  said  it  was  a rum  ’un,  but  his 
name  was  Rumun,  and  no  mistake,’ 

“ Dark,  and  rings  in  his  ears  ! The  man  is  probably  a Spaniard. 
You  mean  Ramon.” 

-No,  I don’t:  I mean  Rumun,”  returned  Tawney,  doggedly. 
“ I thought  it  was  an  uncommon  rum  name,  and  I asked  Jim  twice 
— he  calls  at  the  kennels  sometimes — I asked  him  twice,  and  he 
said  he  was  cock  sure  it  was  Rumun. 

“ Rumun  let  it  be  then.  Altogether,  this  Mr.  Fortescue  seems 
to  be  rather  a mysterious  personage.” 

“ You  are  right  there,  Mr.  Bacon,  he  is.  I only  wish  I was  half 
as  mysterious.  Why,  he  must  be  worth  thousands  upon  thousands. 
And  he  spends  his  money  like  a gentleman,  he  does— thinks  less  of 
a sovereign  than  you  think  of  a bob.  He  sent  Mr.  Keyworth  a 


12 


MR.  FORTE  SC  UR. 


hundred  pounds  for  his  hunt  subscription,  and  said  if  they  were  any 
ways  short  at  the  end  of  the  season  they  had  only  to  tell  him  and  he 
would  send  as  much  more. 

Having  now  got  all  the  information  out  of  Tawney  he  was  able 
to  give  me,  I stood  him  another  whisky,  and  after  lighting  a cigar  I 
mounted  my  horse  and  jogged  slowly  homeward,  thinking  much 
about  Mr.  Fortescue,  and  wondering  who  he  could  be.  The  study 
of  physiognomy  is  one  of  my  fads,  and  his  face  had  deeply  im- 
pressed me ; in  great  wealth,  moreover,  there  is  always  something 
that  strikes  the  imagination,  and  this  man  was  evidently  very  rich, 
and  the  mystery  that  surrounded  him  piqued  my  curiosity. 


CHAPTER  II, 

TICKLE-ME-QUICK. 

Being  naturally  of  a retiring  disposition,  and  in  no  sense  the 
hero  of  the  tale  which  I am  about  to  tell,  I shall  say  no  more  con- 
cerning myself  than  is  absolutely  necessary.  At  the  same  time,  it 
is  essential  to  a right  comprehension  of  what  follows  that  I say 
something  about  myself,  and  better  that  I should  say  it  now  than 
interrupt  the  even  flow  of  my  narrative  later  on. 

My  name  is  Geoffrey  Bacon,  and  I have  reason  to  believe  that  I 
was  born  at  a place  in  Essex  called  (appropriately  enough)  Ded- 
ham. My  family  is  one  of  the  oldest  in  the  county,  and  (of  course) 
highly  respectable;  but  as  the  question  is  often  put  to  me  by 
friends,  and  will  naturally  suggest  itself  to  my  readers,  I may  as 
well  observe,  once  for  all,  that  I am  not  a descendent  of  the  Lord 
Keeper  Bacon,  albeit,  if  he  had  had  any  children,  I have  no  doubt  I 
should  have  been. 

My  poor  mother  died  in  giving  me  birth ; my  father  followed 
her  when  I was  ten  years  old,  leaving  me  with  his  blessing  (nothing 
else),  to  the  care  of  his  aunt,  Miss  Ophelia  Bacon,  by  whom  I was 
brought  up  and  educated.  She  was  very  good  to  me,  but  though  I 
was  far  from  being  intentionally  ungrateful,  I fear  that  I did  not  re- 
pay her  goodness  as  it  deserved.  The  dear  old  lady  had  made  up 
her  mind  that  I should  be  a doctor,  and  though  I would  rather  have 
been  a farmer  gr  a country  gentleman  (the  latter  for  choice),  I made 


TICKLE-ME-Q  Ultit. 


no  objection  ; and  so  long  as  I remained  at  school  she  had  no  rea- 
son to  complain  of  my  conduct.  I satisfied  my  masters  and  passed 
my  preliminary  examination  creditably  and  without  difficulty,  to  my 
aunt’s  great  delight.  She  protested  that  she  was  proud  of  me,  and 
rewarded  my  diligence  and  cleverness  with  a five-pound  note.  But 
after  I became  a student  at  Guy’s  I gave  her  much  trouble,  and 
got  myself  into  some  sad  scrapes.  I spent  her  present,  and  some- 
thing more,  in  hiring  mounts,  for  I was  passionately  fond  of  riding, 
especially  to  hounds,  and  ran  into  debt  with  a neighboring  livery- 
stable  keeper  to  the  tune  of  twenty  pounds.  I would  sometimes 
borrow  the  greengrocer’s  pony,  for  I was  not  particular  what  I rode, 
so  long  as  it  had  four  legs.  When  I could  obtain  a mount  neither 
for  love  nor  on  credit,  I went  after  the  harriers  on  foot.  The  re- 
sult, as  touching  my  health  and  growth,  was  all  that  could  be  de- 
sired. As  touching  my  studies,  however,  it  was  less  satisfactory. 

I was  spun  twice,  both  in  my  anatomy  and  physiology.  Miss 
Ophelia,  though  sorely  grieved,  was  very  indulgent,  and  had  she 
lived,  I am  afraid  that  I should  never  have  got  my  diploma.  But 
when  I was  twenty-one  and  she  seventy-five,  my  dear  aunt  died, 
leaving  me  all  her  property  (which  made  an  income  of  about  four 
hundred  a year),  with  the  proviso  that  unless,  within  three  years  of 
her  death,  I obtained  the  double  qualification,  the  whole  of  her  es- 
tate was  to  pass  to  Guy’s  Hospital.  In  the  mean  time  the  trustees 
were  empowered  to  make  me  an  allowance  of  two  guineas  a week 
and  defray  all  my  hospital  expenses. 

On  this,  partly  because  I was  loath  to  lose  so  goodly  a heritage, 
partly,  I hope,  from  worthier  motives,  I buckled-to  in  real  earnest, 
and  before  I was  four-and-twenty  I could  write  after  my  name  the 
much-coveted  capitals  M.  R.  C.  S.,  L.  R.  C.  P.  All  this  while  I had 
not  once  crossed  a horse  or  looked  at  a hound,  yet  the  ruling  passion 
was  still  strong,  and  being  very  much  of  Mr.  Jorrock’s  opinion  that 
all  time  not  spent  in  hunting  is  lost,  I resolved,  before  “ settling 
down  ” or  taking  up  any  position  which  might  be  incompatible 
with  indulgence  in  my  favorite  amusement,  to  devote  a few  years  of 
my  life  to  fox-hunting.  At  twenty-four  a man  does  not  give  much 
thought  to  the  future— at  any  rate  I did  not. 

The  next  question  was  how  to  hunt  three  or  four  days  a week  on 
four  hundred  a year,  for  though  I was  quite  willing  to  spend  my 
income,  I was  resolved  not  to  touch  my  capital.  To  begin  with,  I 
sold  my  aunt’s  cottage  and  furniture  and  took  a couple  of  rooms  for 


H 


MR.  FOR  TESCUE. 


the  winter  at  Red  Chimneys,  a roomy  farmhouse  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Theydon.  Then,  acting  on  the  great  principle  of  co-opera- 
tion, I joined  at  horsekeeping  with  my  good  friend  and  old  school- 
fellow, Bertie  Alston,  a London  solicitor.  Being  both  of  us  light- 
weights, we  could  mount  ourselves  cheaply ; the  average  cost  of 
our  stud  of  four  horses  did  not  exceed  forty  pounds  apiece.  More- 
over, when  opportunities  offered,  we  did  not  disdain  to  turn  an  hon- 
est penny  by  buying  an  animal  cheap  and  selling  him  dear,  and  as 
I looked  after  things  myself,  bought  my  own  forage,  and  saw  that  I 
had  full  measure,  our  stable  expenses  were  kept  within  moderate 
limits.  Except  when  the  weather  was  bad,  or  a horse  hors  de  com- 
bat, I generally  contrived  to  get  four  days’  hunting  a week — three 
with  the  fox-hounds  and  one  with  Mr.  Vigne’s  harriers — for,  owing 
to  his  professional  engagements,  Alston  could  not  go  out  as  often 
as  I did.  But  as  I took  all  the  trouble  and  responsibility,  it  was 
only  fair  that  I should  have  the  lion’s  share  of  the  riding. 

At  the  end  of  the  season  we  either  sold  the  horses  off  or  turned 
them  into  a straw-yard,  and  I went  to  sea  as  ship’s  surgeon.  In 
this  capacity  I made  voyages  to  Australia,  to  the  Cape,  and  to  the 
West  Indies;  and  the  summer  before  I first  saw  Mr.  Fortescue  I 
had  been  to  the  Arctic  Ocean  in  a whaler.  True,  the  pay  did  not 
amount  to  much,  but  it  found  me  in  pocket-money  and  clothes,  and 
I saved  my  keep. 

Having  now,  as  I hope,  done  with  digressions  and  placed  myself 
en  rapport  with  my  readers,  I will  return  to  the  principal  personage 
of  my  story. 

The  next  time  I met  Mr.  Fortescue  was  at  Harlow  Bush.  He 
was  quite  as  well  mounted  as  before,  and  accompanied,  as  usual,  by 
Rawlings  and  two  grooms  with  their  second  horses.  On  this  occa- 
sion Mr.  Fortescue  did  not  hold  himself  nearly  so  much  aloof  as  he 
had  done  at  Matching  Green,  perhaps  because  he  was  more  noticed ; 
and  he  was  doubtless  more  noticed  because  the  fame  of  his  wealth 
and  the  lavish  use  he  made  of  it  were  becoming  more  widely  known. 
The  master  gave  him  a friendly  nod  and  a gracious  smile,  and  ex- 
pressed a hope  that  we  should  have  good  sport ; the  secretary  en- 
gaged him  in  a lively  conversation  ; the  hunt  servants  touched  their 
caps  to  him  with  profound  respect,  and  he  received  greetings  from 
most  of  the  swells. 

We  drew  Latton,  found  in  a few  minutes,  and  had  a “real  good 
thing,”  a grand  run  of  nearly  two  hours,  with  only  one  or  two 


TlCKLE-M E-QUICK. 


IS 

trifling  checks,  which,  as  I am  not  writing  a hunting  story,  I need 
not  describe  any  further  than  to  remark  that  we  had  plenty  of  fenc- 
a good  deal  of  hard  galloping,  a kill  in  the  open,  and  that  of 
the  sixty  or  seventy  who  were  present  at  the  start  only  about  a score 
were  up  at  the  finish.  Among  the  fortunate  few  were  Mr.  Fortescue 
and  his  pilot.  During  the  latter  part  of  the  run  we  rode  side  by 
side,  and  pulled  up  at  the  same  instant,  just  as  the  fox  was  rolled 
over. 

A very  fine  run,  I took  the  liberty  to  observe,  as  I stepped 
from  my  saddle  and  slackened  my  horse’s  girths.  “ It  will  be  a 
long  time  before  we  have  a better.” 

Two  hours  and  two  minutes,”  shouted  the  secretary,  looking 
at  his  watch,  “ and  straight.  We  are  in  the  heart  of  the  Puckeridge 
country.” 

“Yes,  said  Mr.  Fortescue,  quietly,  “it  was  a very  enjoyable 
run.  You  like  hunting,  I think  ? ” 

Like  it ! I should  rather  think  I do.  I regard  fox-hunting  as 
the  very  prince  of  sports.  It  is  manly,  health-giving,  and  exhila- 
rating. There  is  no  sport  in  which  so  many  participate  and  so 
heartily  enjoy.  We  enjoy  it,  the  horses  enjoy  it,  and  the  hounds 
enjoy  it.” 

“ How  about  the  fox  ? ” 

Oh,  the  fox  ! Well,  the  fox  is  allowed  to  exist  on  condition  of 
being  occasionally  hunted.  If  there  were  no  hunting  there  would 
be  no  foxes.  On  the  whole,  I regard  him  as  a fortunate  and  rather 
pampered  individual ; and  I have  even  heard  it  said  that  he  rather 
likes  being  hunted  than  otherwise.” 

“ As  f°r  the  general  question,  I dare  say  you  are  right.  But  I 
don  t think  the  fox  likes  it  much.  It  once  happened  to  me  to  be 
hunted,  and  I know  I did  not  like  it.” 

This  was  rather  startling,  and  had  Mr.  Fortescue  spoken  less 
gravely  and  not  been  so  obviously  in  earnest,  I should  have  thought 
he  was  joking. 

“You  don’t  mean — Was  it  a paper-chase?”  I said,  rather 
foolishly. 

‘No  ; it  was  not  a paper-chase,”  he  answered,  grimly.  “There 
were  no  paper-chases  in  my  time.  I mean  that  I was  once  hunted, 
just  as  we  have  been  hunting  that  fox.” 

“ With  a pack  of  hounds  ? ” 

“Yes,  with  a pack  of  hounds.” 


i6 


MR.  FORTESCUE, 


I was  about  to  ask  what  sort  of  a chase  it  was,  and  how  and 
where  he  was  hunted,  when  Cuffe  came  up,  and,  on  behalf  of  the 
master,  offered  Mr.  Fortescue  the  brush. 

“ Thank  you,”  said  Mr.  Fortescue,  taking  the  brush  and  handing 
it  to  Rawlings.  “ Here  is  something  for  you  ” — tipping  the  hunts- 
man a sovereign,  which  he  put  in  his  pocket  with  a “Thank  you 
kindly,  sir,”  and  a gratified  smile. 

And  then  flasks  were  uncorked,  sandwich-cases  opened,  cigars 
lighted,  and  the  conversation  becoming  general,  I had  no  other 
opportunity— at  that  time — of  making  further  inquiry  of  Mr.  For- 
tescue touching  the  singular  episode  in  his  career  which  he  had 
just  mentioned.  A few  minutes  later  a move  was  made  for  our 
own  country,  and  as  we  were  jogging  along  I found  myself  near 
Jim  Rawlings. 

“That’s  a fresh  hoss  you’ve  got,  I think,  sir,”  he  said. 

“ Yes,  I have  ridden  him  two  or  three  times  with  the  harriers  ; 
but  this  is  the  first  time  I have  had  him  out  with  fox-hounds.” 

“ He  carried  you  very  well  in  the  run,  sir.” 

“ You  are  quite  right ; he  did.  Very  well.” 

“ Does  he  lay  hold  on  you  at  all,  Mr.  Bacon  ? ” 

“ Not  a bit,” 

“ Light  in  the  mouth,  a clever  jumper,  and  a free  goer.” 

“ All  three.” 

“ Yes,  he’s  the  right  sort,  he  is,  sir ; and  if  ever  you  feel  disposed 
to  sell  him,  I could,  may  be,  find  you  a customer.” 

Accepting  this  as  a delicate  intimation  that  Mr.  Fortescue  had 
taken  a fancy  to  the  horse  and  would  like  to  buy  him,  I told  Jim  that 
I was  quite  willing  to  sell  at  a fair  price. 

“ And  what  might  you  consider  a fair  price,  if  it  is  a fair  ques- 
tion ? ” asked  the  man. 

“ A hundred  guineas,”  I answered ; for,  as  I knew  that  Mr. 
Fortescue  would  not  “ look  at  a horse,”  as  Tawney  put  it,  under 
that  figure,  it  would  have  been  useless  to  ask  less. 

“ Very  well,  sir.  I will  speak  to  my  master,  and  let  you  know.” 
Ranger,  as  I called  the  horse,  was  a purchase  of  Alston’s.  Lik- 
ing his  looks  (though  Bertie  was  really  a very  indifferent  judge),  he 
had  bought  him  out  of  a hansom-cab  for  forty  pounds,  and  after  a 
little  “ schooling,”  the  creature  took  to  jumping  as  naturally  as  a 
duck  takes  to  water.  Sixty  pounds  may  seem  rather  an  unconscion- 
able profit,  but  considering  that  Ranger  was  quite  sound  and  up  to 


¥ 


TICKLE-ME-Q  UICK.  1 7 

weight,  I don’t  think  a hundred  guineas  was  too  much.  A dealer 
would  have  asked  a hundred  and  fifty. 

At  any  rate,  Mr.  Fortescue  did  not  think  it  too  much,  for  Raw- 
lings  presently  brought  me  word  that  his  master  would  take  the 
horse  at  the  price  I had  named,  if  I could  warrant  him  sound. 

“ In  that  case  it  is  a bargain,”  I said,  “for  I can  warrant  him 
sound.” 

“ All  right,  sir.  I’ll  send  one  of  the  grooms  over  to  your  place 
for  him  to-morrow.” 

Shortly  afterward  I fell  in  with  Keyworth,  and  as  a matter  of 
course  we  talked  about  Mr.  Fortescue. 

“ Do  you  know  anything  about  him  ? ” I asked. 

“ Not  much.  I believe  he  is  rich— and  respectable.” 

“ That  is  pretty  evident,  I think.” 

“ I am  not  sure.  A man  who  spends  a good  deal  of  money  is 
presumably  rich  ; but  it  by  no  means  follows  that  he  is  respectable. 
There  are  such  people  in  the  world  as  successful  rogues  and  wealthy 
swindlers.  Not  that  I think  Mr.  Fortescue  is  either  one  or  the 
other.  I learned,  from  the  check  he  sent  me  for  his  subscription,  who 
his  bankers  are,  and  through  a friend  of  mine,  who  is  intimate  with 
one  of  the  directors,  I got  a confidential  report  about  him.  It  does 
not  amount  to  much  ; but  it  is  satisfactory  so  far  as  it  goes.  They 
say  he  is  a man  of  large  fortune,  and,  as  they  believe,  highly  respect- 
able.” 

“ Is  that  all  ? ” 

“ All  there  was  in  the  report.  But  Tomlinson — that’s  my  friend 
— has  heard  that  he  has  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  life  abroad,  and 
that  he  made  his  money  in  South  America.” 

The  mention  of  South  America  interested  me,  for  I had  made 
voyages  both  to  Rio  de  Janeiro  and  several  places  on  the  Spanish 
Main. 

“South  America  is  rather  vague,”  I observed.  “You  might 
almost  as  well  say  * Southern  Asia.’  Have  you  any  idea  in  what 
part  of  it  ? ” 

“ Not  the  least.  I have  told  you  all  I know.  I should  be  glad 
to  know  more ; but  for  the  present  it  is  quite  enough  for  my  pur- 
pose. I intend  to  call  upon  Mr.  Fortescue.” 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  I had  no  such  intention,  for  hav- 
ing neither  a “ position  in  the  county,”  as  the  phrase  goes,  a house 
of  my  own,  nor  any  official  connection  with  the  hunt,  a call  from  me 
2 


i8 


MR.  FOR  FESCUE. 


would  probably  have  been  regarded,  and  rightly  so,  as  a piece  of 
presumption.  As  it  happened,  however,  I not  only  called  on  Mr. 
Fortescue  before  the  secretary,  but  became  his  guest,  greatly  to  my 
surprise,  and,  I have  no  doubt,  to  his,  although  he  was  the  indirect 
cause ; for  had  he  not  bought  Ranger,  it  is  very  unlikely  that  I 
should  have  become  an  inmate  of  his  house. 

It  came  about  in  this  way.  Bertie  was  so  pleased  with  the  re- 
sult of  his  first  speculation  in  horseflesh  (though  so  far  as  he  was 
concerned  it  was  a pure  fluke)  that  he  must  needs  make  another. 
If  he  had  picked  up  a second  cab-horse  at  thirty  or  forty  pounds  he 
could  not  have  gone  far  wrong ; but  instead  of  that  he  must  needs  go 
to  Tattersall  s and  give  nearly  fifty  for  a blood  mare  rejoicing  in  the 
name  of  “ Tickle-me-Quick,”  described  as  being  “ the  property  of  a 
gentleman,  and  said  to  have  won  several  country  steeple-chases. 

The  moment  I set  eyes  on  the  beast  I saw  she  was  a screw, 
“and  vicious  at  that,”  as  an  American  would  have  said.  But  as  she 
had  been  bought  (without  warranty)  and  paid  for,  I had  to  make 
the  best  of  her.  Within  an  hour  of  the  mare’s  arrival  at  Red  Chim- 
neys, I was  on  her  back,  trying  her  paces.  She  galloped  well  and 
jumped  splendidly,  but  I feared  from  her  ways  that  she  would  be 
hot  with  hounds,  and,  perhaps,  kick  in  a crowd,  one  of  the  worst 
faults  that  a hunter  can  possess. 

On  the  next  non-hunting  day  I took  Tickle-me-Quick  out  for  a 
long  ride  in  the  country,  to  see  how  she  shaped  as  a hack.  I little 
thought,  as  we  set  off,  that  it  would  prove  to  be  her  last  journey, 
and  one  of  the  most  memorable  events  of  my  life. 

For  a while  all  went  well.  The  mare  wanted  riding,  yet  she  be- 
haved no  worse  than  I expected,  although  from  the  way  she  laid 
her  ears  back  and  the  angry  tossing  of  her  head  when  I made  her 
feel  the  bit,  she  was  clearly  not  in  the  best  of  tempers.  But  I kept 
her  going , and  an  hour  after  leaving  Red  Chimneys  we  turned  into 
a narrow  deep  lane  between  high  banks,  which  led  to  Kingscote 
entering  the  road  on  the  west  side  of  the  park  at  right  angles,  and 
very  near  Mr.  Fortescue’s  lodge-gates. 

In  the  field  to  my  right  several  colts  were  grazing,  and  when 
they  caught  sight  of  Tickle-me-Quick  trotting  up  the  lane  they  took 
it  into  their  heads  to  have  an  impromptu  race  among  themselves. 
Neighing  loudly,  they  set  off  at  full  gallop.  Without  asking  my 
leave,  Tickle-me-Quick  followed  suit.  I tried  to  stop  her.  I might 
35  well  have  tried  to  stop  an  avalanche,  So,  making  a virtue  of  ne*- 


MR.  POR  RESCUE'S  PROPOSAL 


19 


Cessity,  I let  her  go,  thinking  that  before  she  reached  the  top  of  the 
lane  she  would  have  had  quite  enough,  and  I should  be  able  to  pull 
her  up  without  difficulty. 

The  colts  are  soon  left  behind ; but  we  can  hear  them  galloping 
behind  us,  and  on  goes  the  mare  like  the  wind.  I can  now  see  the 
end  of  the  lane,  and  as  the  great  park  wall,  twelve  feet  high,  looms 
in  sight,  the  horrible  thought  flashes  on  my  mind  that  unless  I pull 
her  up  we  shall  both  be  dashed  to  pieces  ; for  to  turn  a sharp  cor- 
ner at  the  speed  we  are  going  is  quite  out  of  the  question. 

I make  another  effort,  sawing  the  mare’s  mouth  till  it  bleeds,  and 
tightening  the  reins  till  they  are  fit  to  break. 

All  in  vain ; she  puts  her  head  down  and  gallops  on,  if  possible 
more  madly  than  before.  Still  larger  looms  that  terrible  wall ; death 
stares  me  in  the  face,  and  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I undergo  the 
intense  agony  of  mortal  terror. 

We  are  now  at  the  end  of  the  lane.  There  is  one  chance  only, 
and  that  the  most  desperate,  of  saving  my  life.  I slip  my  feet  from 
the  stirrups,  and  when  Tickle-me-Quick  is  within  two  or  three  strides 
of  the  wall,  I drop  the  reins  and  throw  myself  from  her  back.  Then 
all  is  darkness. 


CHAPTER  III. 

MR.  FORTESCUE’S  PROPOSAL. 

“Where  am  I?” 

I feel  as  if  I were  in  a strait-jacket.  One  of  my  arms  is  immov- 
able, my  head  is  bandaged,  and  when  I try  to  turn  I suffer  excruci- 
ating pain. 

“ Where  am  I ? ” 

Oh,  you  have  wakened  up ! ” says  somebody  with  a foreign 
accent,  and  a dark  face  bends  over  me.  The  light  is  dim  and  my 
sight  weak,  and  but  for  his  grizzled  mustache  I might  have  taken 
the  speaker  for  a woman,  his  ears  being  adorned  with  large  gold 
rings. 

“ Where  are  you  ? You  are  in  the  house  of  Sefior  Fortescue.” 

“ And  the  mare  ? ” 

*'  The  mare  broke  her  wicked  head  against  the  park  wall,  and 
she  has  gone  to  the  kennels  to  be  eaten  by  the  dogs.” 


20 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


“ Already  ? How  long  is  it  since  ? ” 

“ It  was  the  day  before  yesterday  zat  it  happened." 

God  bless  me ! I must  have  been  insensible  ever  since. 
That  means  concussion  of  the  brain.  Am  I much  damaged  other- 
wise, do  you  know  ? ” 

“ Pretty  well.  Your  left  shoulder  is  dislocated,  one  of  your 
fingers  and  two  of  your  ribs  broken,  and  one  of  your  ankles  severely 
contused.  But  it  might  have  been  worse.  If  you  had  not  thrown 
yourself  from  your  horse,  as  you  did,  you  would  just  now  be  in  a 
coffin  instead  of  in  this  comfortable  bed.” 

“ Somebody  saw  me,  then  ? ” 

“ Yes,  the  lodge-keeper.  He  thought  you  were  dead,  and  came 
up  and  told  us ; and  we  brought  you  here  on  a stretcher,  and  the 
Senor  Coronel  sent  for  a doctor — ” 

“ The  Senor  Coronel  1 Do  you  mean  Mr.  Fortescue  ? ” 

“Yes,  sir,  I mean  Mr.  Fortescue." 

“ Then  you  are  Ramon  ? ” 

“ Hijo  de  Dios  ! You  know  my  name." 

“Yes,  you  are  Mr.  Fortescue’s  body-servant." 

“ Caramba ! Somebody  must  have  told  you.” 

“You  might  have  made  a worse  guess,  Senor  Ramon.  Will 
you  please  tell  Mr.  Fortescue  that  I thank  him  with  all  my  heart  for 
his  great  kindness,  and  that  I will  not  trespass  on  it  more  than  I 
can  possibly  help.  As  soon  as  I can  be  moved  I shall  go  to  my  own 
place.” 

That  will  not  be  for  a long  time,  and  I do  not  think  the  Senor 
Coronel  would  like — But  when  he  returns  he  will  see  you,  and 
then  you  can  tell  him  yourself.” 

“ He  is  away  from  home,  then  ? ” 

“ The  Seftor  Coronel  has  gone  to  London.  He  will  be  back  to- 
morrow.” 

Well,  if  I can  not  thank  him  to-day,  I can  thank  you,  You 
are  my  nurse,  are  you  not  ? ” 

A little  Geist  and  I,  and  Mees  Tomteenson,  we  relieve  each 
other.  But  those  two  don’t  know  much  about  wounds." 

“ And  you  do,  I suppose  ? ” 

Hijo  de  Dzos ! Do  I know  much  about  wounds?  I have 
nursed  men  who  have  been  cut  to  pieces.  I have  been  cut  to 
pieces  myself,  Look  ! ” 

And  with  that  Ramon  pointed  to  his  neck,  which  was  seamed 


MR.  FOR  FESCUE'S  PROPOSAL. 


21 


all  the  way  down  with  a tremendous  scar ; then  to  his  left  hand, 
which  was  minus  two  fingers ; next  to  one  of  his  arms,  which  ap- 
peared to  have  been  plowed  from  wrist  to  elbow  with  a bullet ; and 
lastly  to  his  head,  which  was  almost  covered  with  cicatrices,  great 
and  small. 

“ And  I have  many  more  marks  in  other  parts  of  my  body, 
which  it  would  not  be  convenient  to  show  you  just  now/’  he  said, 
quietly. 

“ You  are  an  old  soldier,  then,  Ramon  ? ” 

“ Very.  And  now  I will  light  myself  a cigarette,  and  you  will 
no  more  talk.  As  an  old  soldier,  I know  that  it  is  bad  for  a cabal - 
lero  with  a broken  head  to  talk  so  much  as  you  are  doing.” 

“ As  a surgeon,  I know  you  are  right,  and  I will  talk  no  more 
for  the  present.” 

And  then,  feeling  rather  drowsy,  I composed  myself  to  sleep. 
The  last  thing  I remembered  before  closing  my  eyes  was  the  long, 
swarthy,  quixotic-looking  face  of  my  singular  nurse,  veiled  in  a blue 
cloud  of  cigarette-smoke,  which,  as  it  rolled  from  the  nostrils  of  his 
big,  aquiline  nose,  made  those  orifices  look  like  the  twin  craters  of 
an  active  volcano,  upside  down. 

When,  after  a short  snooze,  I woke  a second  time,  my  first  sen- 
sation was  one  of  intense  surprise,  and  being  unable,  without  con- 
siderable inconvenience,  to  rub  my  eyes,  I winked  several  times  in 
succession  to  make  sure  that  I was  not  dreaming ; for  while  I slept 
the  swart  visage,  black  eyes,  and  grizzled  mustache  of  my  nurse 
had,  to  all  appearance,  been  turned  into  a fair  countenance,  with 
blue  eyes  and  a tawny  head,  while  the  tiny  cigarette  had  become  a 
big  meerschaum  pipe. 

“ God  bless  me  ! You  are  surely  not  Ramon  ? ” I exclaimed. 

“ No ; I am  Geist.  It  is  my  turn  of  duty  as  your  nurse.  Can  I 
get  you  anything  ? ” 

“ Thank  you  very  much ; you  are  all  very  kind.  I feel  rather 
faint,  and  perhaps  if  I had  something  to  eat  it  might  do  me  good.” 

“ Certainly.  There  is  some  beef-tea  ready.  Here  it  is.  Shall  I 
feed  you  ? ” 

“ Thank  you.  My  left  arm  is  tied  up,  and  this  broken  finger  is 
very  painful.  But  I am  giving  you  no  end  of  trouble.  I don’t 
know  how  I shall  be  able  to  repay  you  and  Mr.  Fortescue  for  all 
your  kindness.” 

“ Ach  Gotti  Don’t  mention  it,  my  dear  sir.  Mr.  Fortescue 


‘22 


MR.  FORTE SCUE. 


said  you  were  to  have  every  attention ; and  when  a fellow-man  has 
been  broken  all  to  pieces  it  is  our  duty  to  do  for  him  what  we  can. 
Who  knows  ? Perhaps  some  time  I may  be  broken  all  to  pieces 
myself.  But  I will  not  ride  your  fiery  horses.  My  weight  is  seven- 
teen stone,  and  if  I was  to  throw  myself  off  a galloping  horse  as  you 
did,  ach  Goti ! I should  be  broken  past  mending.” 

Mr.  Geist  made  an  attentive  and  genial  nurse,  discoursing  so 
pleasantly  and  fluently  that,  greatly  to  my  satisfaction  (for  I was 
very  weak),  my  part  in  the  conversation  was  limited  to  an  occa- 
sional monosyllable  ; but  he  said  nothing  on  the  subject  as  to  which 
I was  most  anxious  for  information — Mr.  Fortescue — and  as  he 
clearly  desired  to  avoid  it,  I refrained  from  asking  questions  that 
might  have  put  him  in  a difficulty  and  exposed  me  to  a rebuff. 

I found  out  afterward  that  neither  he  nor  Ramon  ever  discussed 
their  master,  and  though  Mrs.  Tomlinson,  my  third  nurse  (a  buxom, 
healthy,  middle-aged  widow,  whose  position  seemed  to  be  some- 
thing between  that  of  housekeeper  and  upper  servant),  was  less 
reticent,  it  was  probably  because  she  had  so  little  to  tell. 

I learned,  among  other  things,  that  the  habits  of  the  household 
were  almost  as  regular  as  those  of  a regiment,  and  that  the  serv- 
ants, albeit  kindly  treated  and  well  paid,  were  strictly  ruled,  even 
comparatively  slight  breaches  of  discipline  being  punished  with  in- 
stant dismissal.  At  half-past  ten  everybody  was  supposed  to  be  in 
bed,  and  up  at  six;  for  at  seven  Mr.  Fortescue  took  his  first  break- 
fast of  fruit  and  dry  toast.  According  to  Mrs.  Tomlinson  (and  this 
I confess  rather  surprised  me)  he  was  an  essentially  busy  man. 
His  only  idle  time  was  that  which  he  gave  to  sleep.  During  his 
waking  hours  he  was  always  either  working  in  his  study,  his  labora- 
tory, or  his  conservatories,  riding  and  driving  being  his  sole  rec- 
reations. 

“ He  is  the  most  active  man  I ever  knew,  young  or  old,”  said 
Mrs.  Tomlinson,  “ and  a good  master— I will  say  that  for  him.  But 
I can  not  make  him  out  at  all.  He  seems  to  have  neither  kith  nor 
kin,  and  yet — This  is  quite  between  ourselves,  Mr.  Bacon — ” 

“ Of  course,  Mrs.  Tomlinson,  quite.” 

‘‘Well,  there  is  a picture  in  his  room  as  he  keeps  veiled  and 
locked  up  in  a sort  of  shrine ; but  one  day  he  forgot  to  turn  the  key, 
and  I — I looked.” 

“ Naturally.  And  what  did  you  see  ? ” 

“ The  picture  of  a woman,  dark,  but,  oh,  so  beautiful — as  beau- 


MR.  FORTESCUE  S PROPOSAL . 23 

tiful  as  an  angel.  . . . I thought  it  was,  may  be,  a sweetheart  or  some- 
thing, but  she  is  too  young  for  the  likes  of  him.” 

“ Portraits  are  always  the  same ; that  picture  may  have  been 
painted  ages  ago.  Always  veiled  is  it  ? That  seems  very  mysteri- 
ous, does  not  it  ? ” 

“ It  does  ; and  I’m  just  dying  to  know  what  the  mystery  is.  If 
you  should  happen  to  find  out,  and  its  no  secret,  would  you  mind 
telling  me?  ” 

At  this  point  Herr  Geist  appeared,  whereupon  Mrs.  Tomlinson, 
with  true  feminine  tact,  changed  the  subject  without  waiting  for  a 
reply. 

During  the  time  I was  laid  up  Mr.  Fortescue  came  into  my  room 
almost  every  day,  but  never  stayed  more  than  a few  minutes.  When 
I expressed  my  sense  of  his  kindness  and  talked  about  going  home, 
he  would  smile  gravely,  and  say : 

“ Patience  ! You  must  be  my  guest  until  you  have  the  full  use 
of  your  limbs  and  are  able  to  go  about  without  help. 

After  this  I protested  no  more,  for  there  was  an  indescribable 
something  about  Mr.  Fortescue  which  would  have  made  it  difficult 
to  contradict  him,  even  had  I been  disposed  to  take  so  ungrateful 
and  ungracious  a part. 

At  length,  after  a weary  interval  of  inaction  and  pain,  came  a 
time  when  I could  get  up  and  move  about  without  discomfort,  and 
one  fine  frosty  day,  which  seemed  the  brightest  of  my  life,  Geist 
and  Ramon  helped  me  down-stairs  and  led  me  into  a pretty  little 
morning-room,  opening  into  one  of  the  conservatories,  where  the 
plants  and  flowers  had  been  so  arranged  as  to  look  like  a sort  of 
tropical  forest,  in  the  midst  of  which  was  an  aviary  filled  with  par- 
rots, cockatoos,  and  other  birds  of  brilliant  plumage. 

Geist  brought  me  an  easy-chair,  Ramon  a box  of  cigarettes  and 
the  “ Times,”  and  I was  just  settling  down  to  a comfortable  read 
and  smoke,  when  Mr.  .Fortescue  entered  from  the  conservatory. 
He  wore  a Norfolk  jacket  and  a broad-brimmed  hat,  and  his  step 
was  so  elastic,  and  his  bearing  so  upright,  and  he  seemed  so  strong 
and  vigorous  withal,  that  I began  to  think  that  in  estimating  his  age 
at  sixty  I had  made  a mistake.  He  looked  more  like  fifty  or  fifty-five* 

“ I am  glad  to  see  you  down-stairs,”  he  said,  helping  himself  to 
a cigarette.  “ How  do  you  feel  ? ” 

“ Very  much  better,  thank  you,  and  to-morrow  or  the  next  day 
X must  really—” 


24 


MR.  FORTE SCUE. 


“ No,  no,  I can  not  let  you  go  yet.  I shall  keep  you,  at  any  rate, 
a few  days  longer.  And  while  this  frost  lasts  you  can  do  no  hunt- 
ing. How  is  the  shoulder  ? ” 

“ Better.  In  a fortnight  or  so  I shall  be  able  to  dispense  with 
the  sling.  But  my  ankle  is  the  worst.  The  contusion  was  very 
severe.  I fear  that  I shall  feel  the  effects  of  it  for  a long  time.” 

“That  is  very  likely,  I think.  I would  any  time  rather  have  a 
clean  flesh-wound  than  a severe  contusion.  I have  had  experience 
of  both.  At  Salamanca  my  shoulder  was  laid  open  with  a saber- 
stroke  at  the  very  moment  my  horse  was  shot  under  me ; ,and  my 
leg,  which  was  terribly  bruised  in  the  fall,  was  much  longer  in  get- 
ting better  than  my  shoulder.” 

“At  Salamanca!  You  surely  don’t  mean  the  battle  of  Sala- 
manca ! ” 

“ Yes,  the  battle  of  Salamanca.” 

“ But,  God  bless  me,  that  is  ages  ago  ! At  the  beginning  of  the 
century — 1810  or  1812,  or  something  like  that.” 

“ The  battle  of  Salamanca  was  fought  on  the  21st  of  July,  1812,” 
said  my  host,  with  a matter-of-fact  air. 

“ But — why — how  ? ” I stammered,  staring  at  him  in  supreme 
surprise.  “ That  is  sixty  years  since,  and  you  don’t  look  much  more 
than  fifty  now.” 

“All  the  same,  I am  nearly  fourscore,”  said  Mr.  Fortescue, 
smiling  as  if  the  compliment  pleased  him. 

“ Fourscore,  and  so  hale  and  strong ! I have  known  men  half 
your  age  not  half  so  vigorous  and  alert.  Why,  you  may  live  to  be  a 
hundred.” 

« I think  I shall,  probably  longer.  Of  course  barring  accidents, 
and  if  I continue  to  avoid  a peril  which  has  been  hanging  over  me 
for  half  a century  or  so,  and  from  which  I have  several  times  escaped 
only  by  the  skin  of  my  teeth.” 

“And  what  is  the  peril,  Mr.  Fortescue?” 

“ Assassination.” 

“ Assassination ! ” 

“ Yes,  assassination.  I told  you  a short  time  ago  that  I was 
once  hunted  by  a pack  of  hounds.  I am  hunted  now — have  been 
hunted  for  two  generations — by  a family  of  murderers.” 

The  thought  occurred  to  me — and  not  for  the  first  time — that 
Mr.  Fortescue  was  either  mad  or  a Munchausen,  and  I looked  at 
him  curiously;  but  neither  in  that  calm,  powerful,  self-possessed 


MR.  FORTESCUE'S  PROPOSAL. 


25 


face,  nor  in  the  steady  gaze  of  those  keen  dark  eyes,  could  I detect 
the  least  sign  of  incipient  insanity  or  a boastful  spirit. 

-You  are  quite  mistaken,”  he  said,  with  one  of  his  enigmatic 
smiles.  “ I am  not  mad  ; and  I have  lived  too  long  either  to  cherish 

illusions  or  conjure  up  imaginary  dangers.”  „ 

« 1 1 beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Fortescue-I  had  no  intention,  I 

stammered,  quite  taken  aback  by  the  accuracy  with  which  he  had 
read,  or  guessed,  my  thoughts-”  I had  no  intention  to  cast  a doubt 
on  what  you  said.  But  who  are  these  people  that  seek  your  life. 

and  why  don’t  you  inform  the  police  ? . 

« The  police  ! How  could  the  police  help  me  ? exclaimed  Mr. 
Fortescue,  with  a gesture  of  disdain.  “ Besides,  life  wou  n°t  e 
worth  having  at  the  price  of  being  always  under  police  protection, 
like  an  evicting  Irish  landlord.  But  let  us  change  the  subject ; we 
have  talked  quite  enough  about  myself.  I want  to  talk  about  you. 

A very  few  minutes  sufficed  to  put  Mr.  Fortescue  in  possession 
of  all  the  information  he  desired.  He  already  knew  something  about 
me,  and  as  I had  nothing  to  conceal,  I answered  all  his  questions 

without  reserve.  , , 

- Don’t  you  think  you  are  rather  wasting  your  life  ? he  asked, 

after  I had  answered  the  last  of  them. 

“ I am  enjoying  it/’ 

“Very  likely.  People  generally  do  enjoy  life  when  they  are 
young.  Hunting  is  all  very  well  as  an  amusement,  but  to  haw  no 
other  object  in  life  seems— what  shall  we  say  ?— just  a little  frivo- 

lous,  don’t  you  think?  , 

“ Well,  perhaps 'it  does;  but  I mean,  after  a while,  to  buy  a 

practice  and  settle  down.” 

« But  in  the  mean  time  your  medical  knowledge  must  be  grow- 
ing  rather  rusty.  I have  heard  physicians  say  that  it  is  only  after 
thev  have  obtained  their  degree  that  they  begin  to  learn  their  pro- 
fession. And  the  practice  you  get  on  board  these  ships  can  not 
amount  to  much. 

“You  are  quite  right,”  I said,  frankly,  for  my  conscience  was 
touched.  “I  am,  as  you  say,  living  too  much  for  the  present, 
know  less  than  I knew  when  I left  Guy’s.  I could  not  pass  my 
‘ final  ’ over  again  to  save  my  life.  You  are  quite  right : I must  turn 

over  a new  leaf.”  T u ~ „ 

“ I am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,  the  more  especially  as  I have  a 

proposal  to  make ; and  as  I make  it  quite  as  much  in  my  own  in- 


2 6 


MR.  FORTE  SC  UR. 


terest  as  in  yours,  you  will  incur  no  obligation  in  accepting  it.  I 
want  you  to  become  an  inmate  of  my  house,  help  me  in  my  labora- 
tory, and  act  as  my  secretary  and  domestic  physician,  and  when  I 
am  away  from  home,  as  my  representative.  You  will  have  free 
quarters,  of  course ; my  stable  will  be  at  your  disposal  for  hunting 
purposes,  and  you  may  go  sometimes  to  London  to  attend  lectures 
and  do  practical  work  at  your  hospital.  As  for  salary — you  can  fix 
it  yourself,  when  you  have  ascertained  by  actual  experience  the 
character  of  your  work.  What  do  you  say  ? ” 

Mr.  Fortescue  put  this  question  as  if  he  had  no  doubt  about  my 
answer,  and  I fulfilled  his  expectation  by  answering  promptly  in  the 
affirmative.  The  proposal  seemed  in  every  way  to  my  advantage, 
and  was  altogether  to  my  liking;  and  even  had  it  been  less  so  I 
should  have  accepted  it,  for  what  I had  just  heard  greatly  whetted 
my  curiosity,  and  made  me  more  desirous  than  ever  to  know  the 
history  of  the  extraordinary  man  with  whom  I had  so  strangely 
come  in  contact,  and  ascertain  the  secret  of  his  wealth. 

The  same  day  I wrote  to  Alston  announcing  the  dissolution  of 
our  partnership,  and  leaving  him  to  deal  with  the  horses  at  Red 
Chimneys  as  he  might  think  fit. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A RESCUE. 

My  curiosity  was  rather  long  in  being  gratified,  and  but  for  a 
very  strange  occurrence,  which  I shall  presently  describe,  probably 
never  would  have  been  gratified.  Even  after  I had  been  a member 
of  Mr.  Fortescue’s  household  for  several  months,  I knew  little  more 
of  his  antecedents  and  circumstances  than  on  the  day  when  he  made 
me  the  proposal  which  I have  just  mentioned.  If  I attempted  to 
lead  up  to  the  subject,  he  would  either  cleverly  evade  it  or  say 
bluntly  that  he  preferred  to  talk  about  something  else.  Save  as  to 
matters  that  did  not  particularly  interest  me,  Ramon  was  as  reti- 
cent as  his  master;  and  as  Geist  had  only  been  with  Mr.  Fortescue 
during  the  latter’s  residence  at  Kingscote,  his  knowledge,  or,  rather, 
his  ignorance  was  on  a par  with  my  own. 

Mr.  Fortescue’s  character  was  as  enigmatic  as  his  history  was 


A RESCUE. 


27 


obscure.  He  seemed  to  be  destitute  both  of  kinsfolk  and  friends, 
never  made  any  allusion  to  his  family,  neither  noticed  women  nor 
discussed  them.  Politics  and  religion  he  equally  ignored,  and,  so 
far  as  might  appear,  had  neither  foibles  nor  fads.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  had  three  passions — science,  horses,  and  horticulture,  and 
his  knowledge  was  almost  encyclopaedic.  He  was  a great  reader, 
master  of  many  languages,  and  seeded  to  have  been  everywhere 
and  seen  all  in  the  world  that  was  worth  seeing.  His  wealth  ap- 
peared to  be  unlimited,  but  how  he  made  it  or  where  he  kept  it  I 
had  no  idea.  All  I knew  was  that  whenever  money  was  wanted  it 
was  forthcoming,  and  that  he  signed  a check  for  ten  pounds  and 
ten  thousand  with  equal  indifference.  As  he  conducted  his  private 
correspondence  himself,  my  position  as  secretary  gave  me  no  in- 
sight into  his  affairs.  My  duties  consisted  chiefly  in  corresponding 
with  tradesmen,  horse-dealers,  and  nursery  gardeners,  and  noting 
the  results  of  chemical  experiments. 

Mr.  Fortescue  was  very  abstemious,  and  took  great  care  of  his 
health,  and  if  he  was  really  verging  on  eighty  (which  I very  much 
doubted),  I thought  he  might  not  improbably  live  to  be  a hundred 
and  ten  or  even  a hundred  and  twenty.  He  drank  nothing,  what- 
ever, neither  tea,  coffee,  cocoa,  nor  any  other  beverage,  neither 
water  nor  wine,  always  quenching  his  thirst  with  fruit,  of  which  he 
ate  largely.  So  far  as  I knew,  the  only  liquid  that  ever  passed  his 
lips  was  an  occasional  liquor-glass  of  a mysterious  decoction  which 
he  prepared  himself  and  kept  always  under  lock  and  key.  His 
breakfast,  which  he  took  every  morning  at  seven,  consisted  of  bread 
and  fruit. 

He  ate  very  little  animal  food,  limiting  himself  for  the  most  part 
to  fish  and  fowl,  and  invariably  spent  eight  or  nine  hours  of  the 
twenty-four  in  bed.  We  often  discussed  physiology,  therapeutics, 
and  kindred  subjects,  of  which  his  knowledge  was  so  extensive  as 
to  make  me  suspect  that  some  time  in  his  life  he  had  belonged  to 
the  medical  profession. 

“ The  best  physicians  I ever  met,”  he  once  observed,  “ are  the 
Callavayas  of  the  Andes— if  the  preservation  and  prolongation 
of  human  life  is  the  test  of  medical  skill.  Among  the  Callavayas 
the  period  of  youth  is  thirty  years ; a man  is  not  held  to  be  a man 
until  he  reaches  fifty,  and  he  only  begins  to  be  old  at  a hundred.” 

“ Was  it  among  the  Callavayas  that  you  learned  the  secret  of  long 
life,  Mr-  Fortescue  ?”  I asked* 


28 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


“ Perhaps,”  he  answered,  with  one  of  his  peculiar  smiles ; and 
then  he  startled  me  by  saying  that  he  would  never  be  a “lean 
and  slippered  pantaloon.”  When  health  and  strength  failed  him 
he  should  cease  to  live. 

“You  surely  don’t  mean  that  you  will  commit  suicide?  ” I ex- 
claimed, in  dismay. 

“ You  may  call  it  what  you  like.  I shall  do  as  the  Fiji  Islanders 
and  some  tribes  of  Indians  do,  in  similar  circumstances — retire 
to  a corner  and  still  the  beatings  of  my  heart  by  an  effort  of  will.” 

“ But  is  that  possible  ? ” 

“ I have  seen  it  done,  and  I have  done  it  myself — not,  of  course, 
to  the  point  of  death,  but  so  far  as  to  simulate  death.  I once  saved 
my  life  in  that  way.” 

“Was  that  when  you  were  hunted,  Mr.  Fortescue  ? ” 

“ No,  it  was  not.  Let  us  go  to  the  stables.  I want  to  see  you 
ride  Regina  over  the  jumps.” 

Mr.  Fortescue  had  caused  to  be  arranged  in  the  park  a minature 
steeple-chase  course  about  a mile  round,  on  which  newly-acquired 
hunters  were  always  tried,  and  the  old  ones  regularly  exercised.  He 
generally  made  a point  of  being  present  on  these  occasions,  some- 
times riding  over  the  course  himself.  If  a horse,  bought  as  a 
hunter,  failed  to  justify  its  character  by  its  performance  it  was  in- 
variably returned. 

Sometimes  Ramon  gave  us  an  exhibition  of  his  skill  as  a gaucho. 
One  of  the  wildest  of  the  horses  would  be  let  loose  in  the  park,  and 
the  old  soldier,  armed  with  a lasso  and  mounted  on  an  animal 
trained  by  himself,  and  equipped  with  a South  American  saddle, 
would  follow  and  try  to  “ rope  ” the  runaway,  Mr.  Fortescue,  Raw- 
lings, and  myself  riding  after  him.  It  was  “good  fun,”  but  I fancy 
Mr.  Fortescue  regarded  this  sport,  as  he  regarded  hunting,  less  as 
an  amusement  than  as  a means  of  keeping  him  in  good  health  and 
condition. 

Regina  (a  recent  purchase)  was  tried  and,  I think,  found  want- 
ing. I recall  the  instance  merely  because  it  is  associated  in  my 
mind  with  an  event  which,  besides  affecting  a momentous  change 
in  my  relations  with  Mr.  Fortescue  and  greatly  influencing  my  own 
fortune,  rendered  possible  the  writing  of  this  book. 

The  trial  over,  Mr.  Fortescue  told  me,  somewhat  abruptly,  that 
he  intended  to  leave  home  in  an  hour,  and  should  be  away  for  sev- 
eral days.  As  he  walked  toward  the  house,  I inquired  if  there  was 


A kZSCUE. 


20 


anything  he  would  like  me  to  look  after  during  his  absence,  where- 
upon he  mentioned  several  chemical  and  electrical  experiments, 
which  he  wished  me  to  continue  and  note  the  results.  He  requested 
me,  further,  to  open  all  letters — save  such  as  were  marked  pnvate 
or  bore  foreign  postmarks— and  answer  so  many  of  them  as,  with- 
out his  instructions,  I might  be  able  to  do.  For  the  rest,  I was  to 
exercise  a general  supervision,  especially  over  the  stables  and  gardens. 
As  for  purely  domestic  concerns,  Geist  was  so  excellent  a manager 
that  his  master  trusted  him  without  reserve. 

When  Mr.  Fortescue  came  down-stairs,  equipped  for  his  jour- 
ney, I inquired  when  he  expected  to  return,  and  on  what  day  he 
would  like  the  carriage  to  meet  him  at  the  station.  I thought  he 
might  tell  me  where  he  was  going;  but  he  did  not  take  the  hint. 

“ If  it  rains  I will  telegraph,”  he  said  ; “if  fine,  I shall  probably 
walk  ; it  is  only  a couple  of  miles.” 

Mr.  Fortescue,  as  he  always  did  when  he  went  outside  his  park 
(unless  he  was  mounted),  took  with  him  a sword-stick,  a habit 
which  I thought  rather  ridiculous,  for,  though  he  was  an  essentially 
sane  man,  I had  quite  made  up  my  mind  that  his  fear  of  assassina- 
tion was  either  a fancy  or  a fad. 

After  my  patron’s  departure  I worked  for  a while  in  the  labora- 
tory ; and  an  hour  before  dinner  I went  for  a stroll  in  the  park, 
making  for  no  reason  in  particular,  toward  the  principal  entrance.  As 
I neared  it  I heard  voices  in  dispute,  and  on  reaching  the  gates  I 
found  the  lodge-keeper  engaged  in  a somewhat  warm  altercation 
with  an  Italian  organ-grinder  and  another  fellow  of  the  same  kid- 
ney, who  seemed  to  be  his  companion. 

The  lodge  keepers  had  strict  orders  to  exclude  from  the  park  all 
beggars  without  exception,  and  all  and  sundry  who  produced  music 
by  turning  a handle.  Real  musicians,  however,  were  freely  ad- 
mitted, and  often  generously  rewarded. 

The  lodge-keeper  in  question  (an  old  fellow  with  a wooden  leg) 
had  not  been  able  to  make  the  two  vagabonds  in  question  under- 
stand this.  They  insisted  on  coming  in,  and  the  lodge-keepei  said 
that  if  I had  not  appeared  he  verily  believed  they  would  have  en- 
tered in  spite  of  him.  They  seemed  to  know  very  little  English ; 
but  as  I knew  a little  Italian,  which  I eked  out  with  a few  signifi- 
cant gestures,  I speedily  enlightened  them,  and  they  sheered  off, 
looking  daggers,  and  muttering  what  sounded  like  curses. 

The  man  who  carried  the  organ  was  of  the  usual  type— short, 


30 


MR.  FORTE  $CUF. 


thick-set,  hairy,  and  unwashed.  His  companion,  rather  to  my  sur- 
prise, was  just  the  reverse — tall,  shapely,  well  set  up,  and  compara- 
tively well  clad ; and  with  his  dark  eyes,  black  mustache,  broad- 
brimmed  hat,  and  red  tie  loosely  knotted  round  his  brawny  throat, 
he  looked  decidedly  picturesque. 

On  the  following  day,  as  I was  going  to  the  stables  (which  were 
a few  hundred  yards  below  the  house)  I found  my  picturesque  Ital- 
ian in  the  back  garden,  singing  a barcarole  to  the  accompaniment  of 
a guitar.  But  as  he  had  complied  with  the  condition  of  which  I 
had  informed  him,  I made  no  objection.  So  far  from  tliat  I gave 
him  a shilling,  and  as  the  maids  (who  were  greatly  taken  with  his 
appearance)  got  up  a collection  for  him  and  gave  him  a feed,  he 
did  not  do  badly. 

A few  days  later,  while  out  riding,  I called  at  the  station  for  an 
evening  paper,  and  there  he  was  again,  “touching  his  guitar,”  and 
singing  something  that  sounded  very  sentimental. 

“ That  fellow  is  like  a bad  shilling,”  I said  to  one  of  the  porters 
— “ always  turning  up.” 

“ He  is  never  away.  I think  he  must  have  taken  it  into  his  head 
to  live  here.” 

“ What  does  he  do  ? ” 

“ Oh,  he  just  hangs  about,  and  watches  the  trains,  as  if  he  had  never 
seen  any  before.  I suppose  there  are  none  in  the  country  he  comes 
from.  Between  whiles  he  sometimes  plays  on  his  banjo  and  sings 
a bit  for  us.  I can  not  quite  make  him  out ; but  as  he  is  very  quiet 
and  well-behaved,  and  never  interferes  with  nobody,  it  is  no  business 
of  mine.” 

Neither  was  it  any  business  of  mine ; so  after  buying  my  paper 
I dismissed  the  subject  from  my  mind  and  rode  on  to  Kingscote. 

As  a rule,  I found  the  morning  papers  quite  as  much  as  I could 
struggle  with  ; but  at  this  time  a poisoning  case  was  being  tried 
which  interested  me  so  much  that  while  it  lasted  I sent  for  or  fetched 
an  evening  paper  every  afternoon.  The  day  after  my  conversation 
with  the  porter  I adopted  the  former  course,  the  day  after  that  I 
adopted  the  latter,  and,  contrary  to  my  usual  practice,  I walked. 

There  were  two  ways  from  Kingscote  to  the  station  ; one  by  the 
road,  the  other  by  a little-used  footpath.  I went  by  the  road,  and 
as  I was  buying  my  paper  at  Smith’s  bookstall  the  station-master 
told  me  that  Mr.  Fortescue  had  returned  by  a train  which  came  in 
about  ten  minutes  previously. 


A RESCUE. 


3* 


“ He  must  be  walking  home  by  the  fields,  then,  or  we  should 
have  met,”  I said ; and  pocketing  my  paper,  I set  off  with  the  in- 
tention of  overtaking  him. 

As  I have  already  observed,  the  field  way  was  little  frequented, 
most  people  preferring  the  high-road  as  being  equally  direct  and,  ex- 
cept in  the  height  of  summer,  both  dryer  and  less  lonesome, 

After  traversing  two  or  three  fields  the  foot-path  ran  through  a 
thick  wood,  once  part  of  the  great  forest  of  Essex,  then  descending 
into  a deep  hollow,  it  made  a sudden  bend  and  crossed  a rambling 
old  brook  by  a dilapidated  bridge. 

As  I reached  the  bend  I heard  a shout,  and  looking  down  I saw 
what  at  first  sight  (the  day  being  on  the  wane  and  the  wood 
gloomy)  I took  to  be  three  men  amusing  themselves  with  a little 
cudgel-play.  But  a second  glance  showed  me  that  something 
much  more  like  murder  than  cudgel-play  was  going  on ; and 
shortening  my  Irish  blackthorn,  I rushed  at  breakneck  speed  down 
the  hollow. 

I was  just  in  time.  Mr.  Fortescue,  with  his  back  against  the 
tree,  was  defending  himself  with  his  sword-stick  against  the  two 
Italians,  each  of  whom,  armed  with  a long  dagger,  was  doing  his 
best  to  get  at  him  without  falling  foul  of  the  sword. 

The  rascals  were  so  intent  on  their  murderous  business  that  they 
neither  heard  nor  saw  me,  and,  taking  them  in  the  rear,  I fetched 
the  guitar-player  a crack  on  his  skull  that  stretched  him  senseless 
on  the  ground,  whereupon  the  other  villain,  without  more  ado,  took 
to  his  heels. 

“Thank  you,”  said  Mr.  Fortescue,  quietly,  as  he  put  up  his 
weapon.  “ I don’t  think  I could  have  kept  the  brigands  at  bay 
much  longer.  A sword-stick  is  no  match  for  a pair  of  Corsican 
daggers.  The  next  time  I take  a walk  I must  have  a revolver.  Is 
that  fellow  dead,  do  you  think  ? If  he  is,  I shall  be  still  more  in 
your  debt.” 

I looked  at  the  prostrate  man’s  face,  then  at  his  head.  “ No,’’  I 
said,  “there  is  no  fracture.  He  is  only  stunned.”  My  diagnosis 
was  verified  almost  as  soon  as  it  was  spoken.  The  next  moment 
the  Italian  opened  his  eyes  and  sat  up,  and  had  I not  threatened 
him  with  my  blackthorn  would  have  sprung  to  his  feet. 

“ You  have  to  thank  this  gentleman  for  saving  your  life,”  said 
Mr.  Fortescue,  in  French. 

“ How  ? ” asked  the  fellow  in  the  same  language. 


32 


MR.  FOkTESCVk. 


“ If  you  had  killed  me  you  would  have  been  hanged.  If  I hand 
you  over  to  the  police  you  will  get  twenty  years  at  the  hulks  for  at- 
tempted murder,  and  unless  you  answer  my  questions  truly  I shall 
hand  you  over  to  the  police.  You  are  a Griscelli.” 

‘‘Yes,  sir.”" 

“ Which  of  them  ? ” 

“ I am  Giuseppe,  the  son  of  Giuseppe/’ 

“ In  that  case  you  are  his  grandson.  How  did  you  find  me 
out  ? ” 

“You  were  at  Paris  last  summer.” 

“ But  you  did  not  see  me  there  ? ” 

“No,  but  Giacomo  did ; and  from  your  name  and  appearance 
we  felt  sure  you  were  the  same,” 

“ Who  is  Giacomo — your  brother  ? ” 

“ No,  my  cousin,  the  son  of  Luigi.” 

“ What  is  he  ? ” 

“ He  belongs  to  the  secret  police.” 

“ So  Giacomo  put  you  on  the  scent  ? ” 

“Yes,  sir.  He  ascertained  that  you  were  living  in  England. 
The  rest  was  easy.” 

Oh,  it  was,  was  it  ? You  don’t  find  yourself  very  much  at  ease 
just  now,  I fancy.  And  now,  my  young  friend,  I am  going  to  treat 
you  better  than  you  deserve.  I can  afford  to  do  so,  for,  as  you  see, 
and,  as  your  grandfather  and  your  father  discovered  to  their  cost,  I 
bear  a charmed  life.  You  can  not  kill  me.  You  may  go.  And  I 
advise  you  to  return  to  France  or  Corsica,  or  wherever  may  be  your 
home,  with  all  speed,  for  to-morrow  I shall  denounce  you  to  the 
police,  and  if  you  are  caught  you  know  what  to  expect.  Who  is 
your  accomplice — a kinsman  ? ” 

“ No,  only  compatriot,  whose  acquaintance  I made  in  London. 
He  is  a coward.”  . 

“ Evidently.  One  more  question  and  I have  done.  Have  you 
any  brothers  ? ” 

“Yes,  sir;  two.” 

“ And  about  a dozen  cousins,  I suppose,  all  of  whom  would  be 
delighted  to  murder  me — if  they  could.  Now,  give  that  gentleman 
your  dagger,  and  march,  au  pas gymnastique." 

With  a very  ill  grace,  Giuseppe  Griscelli  did  as  he  was  bid,  and 
then,  rising  to  his  feet,  he  marched,  not,  however,  at  the  pas  gym - 
nastique , but  slowly  and  deliberately  ; and  as  he  reached  a bend  in 


THEREBY  HANGS  A TALE . 


33 


the  path  a few  yards  farther  on,  he  turned  round  and  cast  at  Mr, 
Fortescue  the  most  diabolically  ferocious  glance  I ever  saw  on  a 
human  countenance. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THEREBY  HANGS  A TALE. 

“You  believe  now,  I hope,”  said  Mr.  Fortescue,  as  we  walked 
homeward. 

“ Believe  what,  sir  ? ” 

“ That  I have  relentless  enemies  who  seek  my  life.  When  I first 
told  you  of  this  you  did  not  believe  me.  You  thought  I was  the 
victim  of  an  hallucination,  el^  had  I been  more  frank  with  you. 

“ I am  really  very  sorry.” 

“ Don’t  protest ! I can  not  blame  you.  It  is  hard  for  people  who 
have  led  uneventful  lives  and  seen  little  of  the  seamy  side  of  human 
nature  to  believe  that  under  the  veneer  of  civilization  and  the  mask 
of  convention,  hatreds  are  still  as  fierce,  men  still  as  revengeful  as 
ever  they  were  in  olden  times.  ...  I hope  I did  not  make  a mistake 
in  sparing  young  Griscelli’s  life.” 

“ Sparing  his  life  ! How  ? ” 

“ He  sought  my  life,  and  I had  a perfect  right  to  take  his. 

‘‘That  is  not  a very  Christian  sentiment,  Mr.  Fortescue.” 

“ I did  not  say  it  was.  Do  you  always  repay  good  for  evil  and 
turn  your  cheek  to  the  smiter,  Mr.  Bacon  ? ” 

“ If  you  put  it  in  that  way,  I fear  I don’t.” 

“ Do  you  know  anybody  who  does  ? ” 

After  a moment’s  reflection  I was  again  compelled  to  answer 
in  the  negative.  I could  not  call  to  mind  a single  individual  of 
my  acquaintance  who  acted  on  the  principle  of  returning  good  for 
evil. 

“ Well,  then,  if  I am  no  better  than  other  people,  I am  no  worse. 
Yet,  after  all,  I think  I did  well  to  let  him  go.  Had  I killed  the 
brigand,  there  would  have  been  a coroner  s inquest,  and  questions 
asked  which  might  have  been  troublesome  to  answer,  and  he  has 
brothers  and  cousins.  If  I could  destroy  the  entire  brood  ! Did  you 
see  the  look  he  gave  me  as  he  went  away  ? It  meant  murder.  We 
have  not  seen  the  last  of  Giuseppe  Griscelli,  Mr.  Bacon. 

3 


34 


MR.  FORTE  SCUF. 


“ I am  afraid  we  have  not.  I never  saw  such  an  expression  of 
intense  hatred  in  my  life  ! Has  he  cause  for  it  ? ” 

“ I dare  say  he  thinks  so.  I killed  his  father  and  his  grand- 
father.” 

This,  uttered  as  indifferently  as  if  it  were  a question  of  killing 
hares  and  foxes,  was  more  than  I could  stand.  I am  not  strait- 
laced, but  I draw  the  line  at  murder. 

“ You  did  what?  ” I exclaimed,  as,  horror-struck  and  indignant, 
I stopped  in  the  path  and  looked  him  full  in  the  face. 

I thought  I had  never  seen  him  so  Mephistopheles-like.  A sin- 
ister smile  parted  his  lips,  showing  his  small  white  teeth  gleaming 
under  his  gray  mustache,  and  he  regarded  me  with  a look  of  cyni- 
cal amusement,  in  which  there  was  perhaps  a slight  touch  of  con- 
tempt. * 

“You  are  a young  man,  Mr.  Bacon,”  he  observed,  gently,  “and, 
like  most  young  men,  and  a great  many  old  men,  you  make  false 
deductions.  Killing  is  not  always  murder.  If  it. were,  we  should 
consign  our  conquerors  to  everlasting  infamy,  instead  of  crowning 
them  with  laurels  and  erecting  statues,  to  their  memory.  I am  no 
murderer,  Mr.  Bacon.  At  the  same  time  I do  not  cherish  illusions. 
Unpremeditated  murder  is  by  no  means  the  worst  of  crimes.  Tak- 
ing a life  is  only  anticipating  the  inevitable ; and  of  all  murderers. 
Nature  is  the  greatest  and  the  cruelest.  I have— if  I could  only  tell 
you — make  you  see  what  I have  seen — Even  now,  O God  ! though 
half  a century  has  run  its  course — ” 

Here  Mr.  Fortescue’s  voice  failed  him ; he  turned  deadly  pale, 
and  his  countenance  took  an  expression  of  the  keenest  anguish. 
But  the  signs  of  emotion  passed  away  as  quickly  as  they  had  ap- 
peared. Another  moment  and  he  had  fully  regained  his  compos- 
ure, and  he  added,  in  his  usual  self-possessed  manner : 

“ All  this  must  seem  very  strange  to  you,  Mr.  Bacon.  I sup» 
pose  you  consider  me  somewhat  of  a mystery.” 

“Not  somewhat,  but  very  much.” 

Mr.  Fortescue  smiled  (he  never  laughed)  and  reflected  a moment. 
“I  am  thinking,”  he  said,  “ how  strangely  things  come  about, 
and,  so  to  speak,  hang  together.  The  greatest  of  all  mysteries  is 
fate.  If  that  horse  had  not  run  a\yay  with  you,  these  rascals  would 
almost  certainly  have  made  away  with  me ; and  the  incident  of  to- 
day is  one  of  the  consequences  of  that  which  I mentioned  at  our 
first  interview.” 


THEREBY  HANGS  A TALE . 35 

« When  we  had  that  good  run  from  Latton.  I remember  it 
very  well.  You  said  you  had  been  hunted  yourself.” 

“Yes.” 

“ How  was  it,  Mr.  Fortescue  ? ” 

“ Ah  ! Thereby  hangs  a tale.” 

“ Tell  it  me,  Mr.  Fortescue,”  I said,  eagerly. 

“ And  a very  long  tale.” 

“ So  much  the  better ; it  is  sure  to  be  interesting.” 

“ Ah,  yes,  I dare  say  you  would  find  it  interesting.  My  life  has 
been  stirring  and  stormy  enough,  in  all  conscience  except  for  the 
ten  years  I spent  in  heaven,”  said  Mr.  Fortescue,  in  a voice  and 
with  a look  of  intense  sadness. 

“ Ten  years  in  heaven ! ” I exclaimed,  as  much  astonished  as  I 
had  just  been  horrified.  Was  the  man  mad,  after  all,  or  did  he 
speak  in  paradoxes  ? “Ten  years  in  heaven  ! ” 

Mr.  Fortescue  smiled  again,  and  then  it  occurred  to  me  that  his 
ten  years  of  heaven  might  have  some  connection  with  the  veiled 
portrait  and  the  shrine  in  his  room  up-stairs. 

“ You  take  me  too  literally,”  he  said.  “ I spoke  metaphorically. 
I did  not  mean  that,  like  Swedenborg  and  Mohammed,  I have  made 
excursions  to  Paradise.  I merely  meant  that  I once  spent  ten  years 
of  such  serene  happiness  as  it  seldom  falls  to  the  lot  of  man  to  en- 
joy. But  to  return  to  our  subject.  You  would  like  to  know  more 
of  my  past ; but  as  it  would  not  be  satisfactory  to  tell  you  an  in- 
complete history,  and  to  tell  you  all—  Yet  why  not?  I have 
done  nothing  that  I am  ashamed  of ; and  it  is  well  you  should 
know  something  of  the  man  whose  life  you  have  saved  once,  and 
may  possibly  save  again.  You  are  trustworthy,  straightforward, 
and  vigilant,  and  albeit  you  are  not  overburdened  with  intelli- 
gence— ” 

Here  Mr.  Fortescue  paused,  as  if  to  reflect ; and,  though  the 
observation  was  not  very  flattering — hardly  civil,  indeed  I was  so 
anxious  to  hear  his  story  that  I took  it  in  good  part,  and  waited 
patiently  for  his  decision. 

“To  relate  it  viva  voce,”  he  went  on,  thoughtfully,  “would  be 
troublesome  to  both  of  us.” 

“ I am  sure  I should  find  it  anything  but  troublesome,” 

“Well,  I should.  It  would  take  too  much  time,  and  I hate 
traveling  over  old  ground.  But  that  is  a difficulty  which  I think  we 
can  get  over.  For  many  years  I have  made  a record  of  the  princi- 


36 


MR.  FORTESCUE. 


pal  events  of  my  life,  in  the  form  of  a personal  narrative ; and 
though  I have  sometimes  let  it  run  behind  for  a while,  I have  always 
written  it  up.” 

“ That  is  exactly  the  thing.  As  you  say,  telling  a long  story  is 
troublesome.  I can  read  it.” 

“ I am  afraid  not.  It  is  written  in  a sort  of  stenographic  cipher 
of  my  own  invention.” 

That  is  very  awkward,”  I said,  despondently.  “ I know  no 
more  of  shorthand  than  of  Sanskrit,  and  though  I once  tried  to  make 
out  a cipher,  the  only  tangible  result  was  a splitting  headache.” 

“ With  the  key,  which  I will  give  you,  a little  instruction,  and 
practice,  you  should  have  no  difficulty  in  making  out  my  cipher.  It 
will  be  an  exercise  for  your  intelligence  smiling.  “ Will  you  try  ? ” 
“ My  very  best.” 

“ And  now  for  the  conditions.  In  the  first  place,  you  must,  in 
stenographic  phrase,  4 extend  ’ my  notes,  write  out  the  narrative  in 
a legible  hand  and  good  English.  If  there  be  any  blanks,  I will  fill 
them  up ; if  you  require  explanations,  I will  give  them.  Do  you 
agree  ? ” 

“ I agree.” 

“The  second  condition  is  that  you  neither  make  use  of  the  nar- 
rative for  any  purpose  of  your  own,  nor  disclose  the  whole  or  any 
part  of  it  to  anybody  until  and  unless  I give  you  leave.  What  say 
you  ? ” 

“ I say  yes.” 

“ The  third  and  last  condition  is,  that  you  engage  to  stay  with 
me  in  your  present  capacity  until  it  pleases  me  to  give  you  your 
conge . Again  what  say  you  ? ” 

This  was  rather  a “ big  order,”  and  very  one-sided.  It  bound 
me  to  remain  with  Mr.  Fortescue  for  an  indefinite  period,  yet  left 
him  at  liberty  to  dismiss  me  at  a moment’s  notice ; and  if  he  went 
on  living,  I might  have  to  stay  at  Kingscote  till  I was  old  and  gray. 
All  the  same,  the  position  was  a good  one.  I had  four  hundred  a 
year  (the  price  at  which  I had  modestly  appraised  my  services),  free 
quarters,  a pleasant  life,  and  lots  of  hunting — all  I could  wish  for,  in 
fact;  and  what  can  a man  have  more?  So  again  I said,  “Yes.” 
“We  are  agreed  in  all  points,  then.  If  you  will  come  into  my 
room  ” — we  were  by  this  time  arrived  at  the  house — “ you  shall 
have  your  first  lesson  in  cryptography.” 

I assented  with  eagerness,  for  I was  burning  to  begin,  and,  from 


THEREBY  HANGS  A TALE . 


3 7 


what  Mr.  Fortescue  had  said,  I did  not  anticipate  any  great  diffi- 
culty in  making  out  the  cipher. 

But  when  he  produced  a specimen  page  of  his  manuscript,  my 
confidence,  like  Bob  Acre’s  courage,  oozed  out  at  my  finger-ends, 
or  rather,  all  over  me,  for  I broke  out  into  a cold  sweat. 

The  first  few  lines  resembled  a confused  array  of  algebraic 
formula.  (I  detest  algebra).  Then  came  several  lines  that  seemed 
to  have  been  made  by  the  crawlings  of  tipsy  flies  with  inky  legs, 
followed  by  half  a dozen  or  so  that  looked  like  the  ravings  of  a 
lunatic  done  into  Welsh,  while  the  remainder  consisted  of  Roman 
numerals  and  ordinary  figures  mixed  up,  higgledy-piggledy. 

“ This  is  nothing  less  than  appalling,”  I almost  groaned.  “ It 
will  take  me  longer  to  learn  than  two  or  three  languages. 

“ Oh,  no  ! When  you  have  got  the  clew,  and  learned  the  signs, 
you  will  read  the  cipher  with  ease.” 

“ Very  likely ; but  when  will  that  be  ? ” 

“ Soon.  The  system  is  not  nearly  so  complicated  as  it  looks,  and 
the  language  being  English — ” 

“ English ! It  looks  like  a mixture  of  ancient  Mexican  and 
modern  Chinese.” 

“The  language  being  English,  nothing  could  be  easier  for  a man 
of  ordinary  intelligence.  If  I had  expected  that  my  manuscript 
would  fall  into  the  hands  of  a cryptographist,  I should  have  con- 
trived something  much  more  complicated  and  written  it  in  several 
languages  ; and  you  have  the  key  ready  to  your  hand.  Come,  let 
us  begin.” 

After  half  an  hour’s  instruction  I began  to  see  daylight,  and  to 
feel  that  with  patience  and  practice  I should  be  able  to  write  out 
the  story  in  legible  English.  The  little  I had  read  with  Mr.  Fortescue 
made  me  keen  to  know  more  ; but  as  the  cryptographic  narrative  did 
not  begin  at  the  beginning,  he  proposed  that  I should  write  this,  as 
also  any  other  missing  parts,  to  his  dictation. 

“Who  knows  that  you  may  not  make  a book  of  it  ? ” he  said. 

“ Do  you  think  I am  intelligent  enough  ? ” I asked,  resentfully  ; 
for  his  uncomplimentary  references  to  my  mental  capacity  were  still 
rankling  in  my  mind. 

“ I should  hope  so.  Everybody  writes  in  these  days.  Don’t 
worry  yourself  on  that  score,  my  dear  Mr.  Bacon.  Even  though 
you  may  write  a book,  nobody  will  accuse  you  of  being  exception- 
ally intelligent,” 


38 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE . 


“ But  * can  not  make  a book  of  your  narrative  without  your 
leave,  I observed,  with  a painful  sense  of  having  gained  nothing  by 
my  motion. 

“ And  leave  may  be  sooner  or  later  forthcoming,  on  con- 
ditions.” 

As  the  reader  will  find  in  the  sequel,  the  leave  has  been  given 
and  the  conditions  have  been  fulfilled,  and  Mr.  Fortescue’s  personal 
narrative— partly  taken  down  from  his  own  dictation,  but  for  the 
most  part  extended  from  his  manuscript— begins  with  the  following- 
chapter. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  TALE  BEGINS. 

The  morning  after  the  battle  of  Salamanca  (through  which  I 
passed  unscathed)  the  regiment  of  dragoons  to  which  I belonged 
(forming  part  of  Anson’s  brigade),  together  with  Bock’s  Germans, 
was  ordered  to  follow  on  the  traces  of  the  flying  French,  who  had 
retired  across  the  River  Tormes.  Though  we  started  at  daylight, 
we  did  not  come  up  with  their  rear-guard  until  noon.  It  consisted 
of  a strong  force  of  horse  and  foot,  and  made  a stand  near  La  Serna; 
but  the  cavalry,  who  had  received  a severe  lesson  on  the  previous 
day,  bolted  before  we  could  cross  swords  with  them.  The  infantry, 
however,  remained  firm,  and  forming  square,  faced  us  like  men. 
The  order  was  then  given  to  charge ; and  when  the  two  brigades 
broke  into  a gallop  and  thundered  down  the  slope,  they  raised  so 
thick  a cloud  of  dust  that  all  we  could  see  of  the  enemy  was  the 
glitter  of  their  bayonets  and  the  flash  of  their  musket-fire.  Saddles 
were  emptied  both  to  the  right  and  left  of  me,  and  one  of  the  rider- 
less horses,  maddened  by  a wound  in  the  head,  dashed  wildly  for- 
ward, and  leaping  among  the  bayonets  and  lashing  out  furiously 
with  his  hind-legs,  opened  a way  into  the  square.  I was  the  first 
man  through  the  gap,  and  engaged  the  French  colonel  in  a hand-to- 
hand  combat.  At  the  very  moment  just  as  I gave  him  the  point  in 
his  throat  he  cut  open  my  shoulder,  my  horse,  mortally  hurt  by  a 
bayonet  thrust,  fell,  half  rolling  over  me  and  crushing  my  leg. 

As  I lay  on  the  ground,  faint  with  the  loss  of  blood  and  unable 
to  rise,  some  of  our  fellows  rode  over  me,  and  being  hit  on  the  head 


THE  TALE  BEGINS. 


39 


by  one  of  their  horses,  I lost  consciousness.  When  I came  to  my- 
self the  skirmish  was  over,  nearly  the  whole  of  the  French  rear- 
guard had  been  taken  prisoners  or  cut  to  pieces,  and  a surgeon  was 
dressing  my  wounds.  This  done,  I was  removed  in  an  ambulance 
to  Salamanca. 

The  historic  old  city,  with  its  steep,  narrow  streets,  numerous 
convents,  and  famous  university,  had  been  well-nigh  ruined  by  the 
French,  who  had  pulled  down  half  the  convents  and  nearly  all  the 
colleges,  and  used  the  stones  for  the  building  of  forts  which  a few 
weeks  previously,  Wellington  had  bombarded  with  red-hot  shot 

The  hospitals  being  crowded  with  sick  and  wounded,  I was  bi  - 
leted  in  the  house  of  a certain  Senor  Don  Alberto  Zamorra,  whic 
(probably  owing  to  the  fact  of  its  having  been  the  quarters  of  a 
French  colonel)  had  not  taken  much  harm,  either  during  the  Frenc 
occupation  of  the  town  or  the  subsequent  siege  of  the  forts. 

Don  Alberto  gave  me  a hearty,  albeit  a dignified  welcome,  and 
being  a Spanish  gentleman  of  the  old  school,  he  naturally  placed  his 
house,  and  all  that  it  contained,  at  my  disposal.  I did  not,  of  course, 
take  this  assurance  literally,  and  had  I not  been  on  the  right  side  I 
should  doubtless  have  met  with  a very  different  reception.  All  the 
same,  he  made  a very  agreeable  host,  and  before  I had  been  his 
guest  many  days  we  became  fast  friends. 

Don  Zamorra  was  old,  nearly  as  old  as  I am  now ; and  as 
speedily  discovered,  he  had  passed  the  greater  part  of  his  life  in 
Spanish  America,  where  he  had  held  high  office  under  the  crown. 
He  could  hardly  talk  about  anything  else,  in  fact,  and  once  he  began 
to  discourse  about  his  former  greatness  and  the  marvels  of  the  Indies 
(as  South  and  Central  America  were  then  sometimes  called)  he 
never  knew  when  to  stop.  He  had  crossed  the  Andes  and  seen  the 
Amazon,  sailed  down  the  Orinoco  and  visited  the  mines  of  Potosi 
and  Guanajuata,  beheld  the  fiery  summit  of  Cotopaxi  and  peeped 
down  the  smoky  crater  of  Acatenango.  He  told  of  fights  with  In- 
dians and  wild  animals,  of  being  lost  in  the  forest,  and  of  perilous 
expeditions  in  search  of  gold  and  precious  stones.  Wnen  Zamona 
spoke  of  gold  his  whole  attitude  changed,  the  fires  of  his  youth 
blazed  up  afresh,  his  face  glowed  with  excitement,  and  h.s  eyes 
sparkled  with  greed.  At  these  times  I saw  m him  a true  type  of  the 
old  Spanish  Conquestadores,  who  would  baptize  a cacique  to  save 
him  from  hell  one  day,  and  kill  him  and  loot  his  treasure  the  next 
Don  Alberto  had,  moreover,  a firm  belief  in  the  existence  of  tn« 


40 


MR.  FOR  'RESCUE. 


fabled  El  Dorado,  and  of  the  city  of  Manoa,  with  its  resplendent 
house  of  the  sun,  its  hoards  of  silver  and  gold,  and  its  gilded  king. 
Thousands  of  adventurers  had  gone  forth  in  search  of  these  wonders 
and  thousands  had  perished  in  the  attempt  to  find  them.  Seiior 
Zamorra  had  sought  El  Dorado  on  the  banks  of  the  Orinoco  and  the 
Rio  Negro;  others,  near  the  source  of  the  Rio  Grande  and  the 
Maranon  others,  again,  among  the  volcanoes  of  Salvador  and  the 

w^Tofr^  C°rdl",eraS'  Zamorra  believed  that  it  lay  either  in  the 
\ilds  of  Guiana  or  the  unexplored  confines  of  Peru  and  the  Brazils. 

°f  and  beIleved  even  greater  wonders— of  a stream 
on  the  Pacific  coast  of  Mexico,  whose  pebbles  were  silver,  and  whose 
sand  was  gold  ; of  a volcano  in  the  Peruvian  Cordillera,  whose  crater 
was  lined  with  the  noblest  of  metals,  and  which  once  in  every  hun- 

dus^of  gold  ejeCt6d’  f°r  da>’S  t0g6ther  diamonds’  and  rubies,  and 

“ If  that  volcano  could  only  be  found,’ ' said  the  don,  with  a con- 

f hiS  b0l:j  fingers’  and  a greed>’  g'-e  in  his  aged 
X',,  f ‘I131  VoIcano  c°uld  only  be  found  1 Why,  it  must  be  made 
of  gold,  and  covered  with  precious  stones  1 The  man  who  found  it’ 
would  be  the  richest  in  all  the  world-richer  than  all  the  people  in 
the  world  put  together  1 ” 1 F 

“ Did  you  ever  see  it,  Don  Alberto  ? ” I asked. 

I hlcfseenTh?66/1  ? ” Upl‘ft‘n-  his  withered  hands.  “ If 

X h that  volcano  you  would  never  have  seen  me,  but  you 

saw  it  ba)h  h me'  Tuad  k fr°m  an  Indi0  'vbose  father  once 

sawlt  with  his  own  eyes;  but  I was  too  old,  too  old ’’—sighing— 

to  go  on  the  quest.  To  undertake  such  an  enterprise  a man  should 

Jf'Yu6  pnme  of  llfe  and  g.°  alone.  A single  companion,  even 
ugh  he  were  your  own  brother,  might  be  fatal;  for  what  virtue 
could  be  proof  against  so  great  a temptation-millions  of  diamonds 
and  a mountain  of  gold  ? ” Ims 

I bZ?«77t7  CUri°Sity  and  fir6d  my  ’mag*nation — not  that 
, ed  it  all,  for  Zamorra  was  evidently  a visional  with  a fixed 

daTsSoutrr0  ^^^26’  Credulousas  a child;  but  in  those 
da>s  South  America  had  been  very  little  written  about  and  not  half 

explored , for  me  it  had  all  the  charm  and  fascination  of  the  un- 
known-a  land  of  romance  and  adventure,  abounding  in  grand 
scenery  peopled  by  strange  races,  and  containing  the  mightiest 
nvers  the  greatest  forests,  and  highest  mountains  in  the  world 
When  my  host  dismounted  from  his  hobby  he  was  an  intelligent 


THE  TALE  BEGINS. 


41 


talker  and  told  me  much  that  was  interesting  about  Mexico,  Peru, 
Guatemala,  and  the  Spanish  Main.  He  had  several  books  on  the 
subject  which  I greedily  devoured.  The  expedition  of  Piedro  de 
Ursua  and  Lope  de  Aguirre  in  search  of  El  Dorado  and  Omagua , 

“ History  of  the  Conquest  of  Mexico,”  by  Don  Antonio  de  Solis , 
Piedrolieta’s  “ General  History  of  the  Conquest  of  the  New  Kingdom 
of  Grenada,”  and  others ; and  before  we  parted  I had  resolved  that, 
so  soon  as  the  war  was  over,  I would  make  a voyage  to  the  land  of 
the  setting  sun,  and  see  for  myself  the  wonders  of  which  I had 

^“You  are  right,”  said  Sehor  Zamorra,  when  I told  him  of  my 
intention.  “America  is  the  country  of  the  future.  Ah,  if  I were 
only  fifty  years  younger  ! You  will,  of  course,  visit  Venezuela  ; an 
if  you  visit  Venezuela  you  are  sure  to  go  to  Caracas.  I will  give 
you  a letter  of  introduction  to  a friend  of  mine  there.  He  is  a man 
in  authority,  and  may  be  of  use  to  you.  I should  much  like  you  to 

see  him  and  greet  him  on  my  behalf. 

I thanked  my  host,  and  promised  to  see  his  friend  and  present 
the  letter.  It  was  addressed  to  Don  Simon  de  Ulloa.  Little  did  i 
think  how  much  trouble  that  letter  would  give  me,  and  how  near  it 
would  come  to  being  my  death-warrant. 

Zamorra  then  besought  me,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  to  go  in  search 

of  the  Golden  Volcano.  x T 

“ If  you  could  give  me  a more  definite  idea  of  its  whereabout  I 
might  possibly  make  the  attempt,”  I answered,  with  intentional 
vagueness ; for  though  I no  more  believed  in  the  objective  existence 
of  the  Golden  Volcano  than  in  Aladdin’s  lamp,  I did  not  wish  to 
hurt  the  old  man’s  feelings  by  an  avowal  of  my  skepticism. 

« Ah,  my  dear  sir,”  he  said,  with  a gesture  of  despair,  “ if  I knew 
the  whereabout  of  the  Golden  Volcano,  I should  go  thither  myself, 
old  as  I am.  I should  have  gone  long  ago,  and  returned  with  a 
hoard  of  wealth  that  would  make  me  the  master  of  Europe-wealth 
that  would  buy  kingdoms.  I can  tell  you  no  more  than  that  it  is 
somewhere  in  the  region  of  the  Peruvian  Andes.  It  may  be  that  by 
cautious  inquiry  you  will  light  on  an  Indio  who  will  lead  you  to  t e 
very  spot.  It  is  worth  the  attempt,  and  if  by  the  help  of  St.  Peter 
and  the  Holy  Virgin  you  succeed,  and  I am  still  alive,  send  me  out 
of  your  abundance  a few  arrobas  (twenty-five  pounds)  of  gold  and  a 
handful  of  large  diamonds.  It  is  all  I ask. 

It  was  all  he  asked  ! 


42 


Mr.  fortescue. 


When  I find  that  volcano,  Don  Alberto  ” I said  “I  will  a 
y»,  no,  , mere  handful  dlamond5  bot  a ^ 1 »nd 

Z L^°  'S'  '0r  r ““  da'  “«  "as 

of  Burgos,  was  ? *•  «“ 

Salamanca  would  almost  inevitably  he  S ^ fr°ntier’  and  that 
O*,  were  given  for  ,he'  £ ,™,  * £ French. 

to  partmy  WeS  pined"  XrrT  qUarterS’  “d  Zam°rra  and  1 ^ 
«re  hope,  destined  neve,  to* °‘  ‘'“f"1'1  “d  ” 
again  I W „ Don  Albmo  for  ^ , * ™Sf>>‘  »»»  mee, 

nse  mj^bridpearnn'and  bd  ”?cta,t'r."“™«<l  »«'  my  hurls  lo 
was  fit  for  the  field  and  eageTfo/the  °r  ^ ”ext  carnPai£n  1 
Vittoria,  one  of  the  most  brill'  efnJ-  II  was  the  campaign  of 

England.  Even  hZLTfaTt  “ ^ ^ °f 

in  my  veins  when  I think  of  that  time  so  full  of  1 °°d  ting'eS 

ure,  and  glory-the  forcing  of  tL  Renees  the  adVent" 

^battles  of  Bayonne,  ifrthes,  ZHZ12S2 

Elista*  ‘ aba,‘-^ 

It  occurred  after  the  battle  of  Vittoria  xi^  v 
inr  for  the  Pyrenees,  laden  with  theCof  a Sl  aT  "“k- 

,hc  ,"«’'dra  »« 

presented  aTthldof  1 ,i’  “™IS°  ‘ as  ,he  “f  Vittoria 

the  ?™eh  a,„  ' h ^ The  broto>  ””a™  »' 

Places  of  artillery,  sereTwfth'fa*Id  ?'  Pan,plona  r0a4  e«h<y 

thousands  of  wagons  and  rtn  C°Vering  their  retreat; 

to  move  • the  red  mat  a ■ t ^geS  iarnmeci  together  and  unable 
move,  the  red-coated  infantry  of  England,  marching  steadily 


the  tale  begins. 


43 


across  the  plain ; the  boom  of  the  cannon,  the  rattle  of  musketry, 
the  scream  of  women  as  the  bullets  whistled  through  the  air  and 
shells  burst  over  their  heads— all  this  made  up  a scene,  dramatic 
and  picturesque,  it  is  true,  yet  fullbf  dire  confusion  and  Dantesque 
honor;  for  death  had  reaped  a rich  harvest,  and  thousands  of 
wounded  lay  writhing  on  the  blood-stained  field. 

Owing  to  the  bursting  of  packages,  the  overturning  of  wagons, 
and  the  havoc  wrought  by  shot  and  shell,  valuable  effects,  com, 
gems,  gold  and  silver  candlesticks  and  vessels,  priceless  paintings, 
the  spoil  of  Spanish  churches  and  convents,  were  strewed  over  t e 
ground.  There  was  no  need  to  plunder ; our  men  picked  up  money 
as  they  marched,  and  it  was  computed  that  a sum  equal  to  a million 
sterling  found  its  way  into  their  knapsacks  and  pockets. 

Our  Spanish  allies,  officers  as  well  as  privates,  were  less  scrupu- 
lous. They  robbed  like  highwaymen,  and  protested  that  they  were 
only  taking  their  own. 

While  riding  toward  Vittoria  to  execute  an  order  of  the  colonel  s, 

I passed  a carriage  which  a moment  or  two  previously  had  been 
overtaken  by  several  of  Longa’s  dragoons,  with  the  evident  intention  • 
of  overhauling  it.  In  the  carriage  were  two  ladies,  one  young  and 
pretty  the  other  good-looking  and  mature  ; and,  as  I judged  fiom 
their  appearance,  both  being  well  dressed,  the  daughter  and  wife  of 
a French  officer  of  rank.  They  appealed  to  me  for  help. 

“You  are  an  English  officer,”  said  the  elder  in  French;  “all  the 
world  knows  that  your  nation  is  as  chivalrous  as  it  is  brave.  Pro- 
tect  us,  I pray  you,  from  these  ruffians.” 

I bowed,  and  turning  to  the  Spaniards,  onk  of  whom  was  an 
officer,  spoke  them  fair ; for  my  business  was  pressing,  and  I had 
no  wish  to  be  mixed  up  in  a quarrel. 

« Caballeros,”  I said,  “ we  do  not  make  war  on  women.  You  will 

let  these  ladies  go.” 

“Carambo!  We  shall  do  nothing  of  the  sort,”  returned  the 
officer,  insolently.  “ These  ladies  are  our  prisoners,  and  their  car- 
riage and  all  it  contains  our  prize.” 

**  I beg  your  pardon,  Senor  Capitan,  but  you  are,  peihaps,  not 
aware  that  Lord  Wellington  has  given  strict  orders  that  private 
property  is  to  be  respected  ; and  no  true  cabaliero  molests  women. 

“ Hijo  cle  Dios ! Dare  you  say  that  I am  no  true  cabaliero  ? 
Begone  this  instant,  or—” 

The  Spaniard  drew  his  sword ; I drew  mine  ; his  men  began  to 


44 


MR.  FORTESCUE. 


look  to  the  priming  of  their  pistols,  and  had  General  Anson  not 
chanced  to  come  by  just  in  the  nick  of  time,  it  might  have  gone  ill 
with  me.  On  learning  what  had  happened,  he  said  I had  acted 
very  properly,  and  told  the  Spaniards  that  if  they  did  not  promptly 
depart  he  would  hand  them  over  to  the  provost-marshal. 

“ We  sha11  meet  again,  I hope,  you  and  I,"  said  the  officer,  defi- 
antly, as  he  gathered  up  his  reins. 

“So  do  I,  if  only  that  I may  have  an  opportunity  of  chastis- 
ing you  for  your  insolence,”  was  my  equally  defiant  answer. 

“A  thousand  thanks,  monsieur!  You  have  done  me  and  my 
daughter  a great  service,  said  the  elder  of  the  ladies.  “ Do  me  the 
pleasure  to  accept  this  ring  as  a slight  souvenir  of  our  gratitude, 
and  I trust  that  in  happier  times  we  may  meet  again.” 

I accepted  the  souvenir  without  looking  at  it ; reciprocated  the 
wish  in  my  best  French,  made  my  best  bow,  and  rode  off  on  my 
errand.  By  the  same  act  I had  made  one  enemy  and  two  friends ; 
therefore,  as  I thought,  the  balance  was  in  my  favor.  But  I was 
wrong,  for  a wider  experience  of  the  world  than  I then  possessed 
has  taught  me  that  it  is  better  to  miss  making  a hundred  ordinary 
friends  than  to  make  one  inveterate  enemy. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

IN  QUEST  OF  FORTUNE. 

When  the  war  came  to  an  end  my  occupation  was  gone,  for 
both  circumstances  and  my  own  will  compelled  me  to  leave  the 
army.  My  allowance  could  no  longer  be  continued.  At  the  best, 
the  life  of  a lieutenant  of  dragoons  in  peace  time  would  have  been 
little  to  my  liking ; with  no  other  resource  than  my  pay,  it  would 
have  been  intolerable.  So  I sent  in  my  papers,  and  resolved  to  seek 
my  fortune  in  South  America.  After  the  payment  of  my  debts  (in- 
curred partly  in  the  purchase  of  my  first  commission)  and  the  pro- 
vision of  my  outfit,  the  sum  left  at  my  disposal  was  comparatively 
trifling.  But  I possessed  a valuable  asset  in  the  ring  given  me  by 
the  French  lady  on  the  field  of  Vittoria.  It  was  heavy,  of  antique 
make,  curiously  wrought,  and  set  with  a large  sapphire  of  incompa- 
rable beauty.  A jeweler,  to  whom  I showed  it,  said  he  had  never 


IN  QUEST  OF  FORTUNE . 


45  - 

seen  a finer.  I could  have  sold  it  for  a hundred  guineas.  But  as 
the  gem  was  property  in  a portable  shape  and  more  convertible 
than  a bill  of  exchange,  I preferred  to  keep  it,  taking,  however,  the 
precaution  to  have  the  sapphire  covered  with  a composition,  in 
order  that  its  value  might  not  be  too  readily  apparent  to  covetous 
eyes. 

At  this  time  the  Spanish  colonies  of  Colombia  (including  the 
countries  now  known  as  Venezuela,  New  Granada,  and  Ecuador,  as 
also  the  present  republic  of  southern  Central  America)  were  in  full 
revolt  against  the  mother  country.  The  war  had  been  going  on  foi 
several  years  with  varying  fortunes  ; but  latterly  the  Spaniards  had 
been  getting  decidedly  the  best  of  it.  Caracas  and  all  the  seaport 
towns  were  in  their  possession,  and  the  patriot  cause  was  only  main- 
tained by  a few  bands  of  irregulars,  who  were  waging  a desperate 
and  almost  hopeless  contest  in  the  forests  and  on  the  llanos  of  the 
interior. 

My  sympathies  were  on  the  popular  side,  and  I might  have 
joined  the  volunteer  force  which  was  being  raised  in  England  for 
sendee  with  the  insurgents.  But  this  did  not  suit  my  purpose.  If 
I accepted  a commission  in  the  Legion  I should  have  to  go  vheie  I 
was  ordered.  I preferred  to  go  where  I listed.  I had  no  objection 
to  fighting,  but  I wanted  to  do  it  in  my  own  way  and  at  my  own 
time,  and  rather  in  the  ranks  of  the  rebels  themselves  than  as 
officer  in  a foreign  force. 

This  view  of  the  case  I represented  to  Senor  Morena,  one  of  the 
**  patriot  ” agents  in  London,  and  asked  his  advice. 

“ Why  not  go  to  Caracas  ” he  said. 

“ What  would  be  the  use  of  that  ? Caracas  is  in  the  hands  of 
the  Spaniards.” 

“ You  could  get  from  Caracas  into  the  interior,  and  do  the  cause 
an  important  sendee.” 

“ How  ? ” 

Senor  Morena  explained  that  the  patriots  of  the  capital,  being 
sorely  oppressed  by  the  Spaniards,  were  losing  courage,  and  he 
wished  greatly  to  send  them  a message  of  hope  and  the  assurance 
that  help  was  at  hand.  It  was  also  most  desirable  that  the  insur- 
gent leaders  on  the  field  should  be  informed  of  the  organization  of  a 
British  liberating  Legion,  and  of  other  measures  which  were  being 
taken  to  afford  them  relief  and  turn  the  tide  of  victory  in  their  favor. 

But  to  communicate  these  tidings  to  the  parties  concerned  was 


MR.  FORTE  SCUE. 


46 

by  no  means  easy.  The  post  was  obviously  quite  out  of  the  ques- 
tion, and  no  Spanish  creole  could  land  at  any  port  held  by  the  Roy- 
alists without  the  almost  certainty  of  being  promptly  strangled  or 
shot.  “ An  Englishman,  however — especially  an  Englishman  who 
had  fought  under  Wellington  in  Spain — might  undertake  the  mission 
with  comparative  impunity,”  said  Senor  Morena. 

“ I understand  perfectly,”  I answered.  “ I have  to  go  in  the 
character  of  an  ordinary  traveling  Englishman,  and  act  as  an  emis- 
sary of  the  insurgent  junta.  But  if  my  true  character  is  detected, 
what  then  ? ” 

“ That  is  not  at  all  likely,  Mr,  Fortescue.” 

“ Yet  the  unlikely  happens  sometimes— happens  generally,  in 
fact.  Suppose  it  does  in  the  present  instance  ? ” 

“In  that  case  I am  very  much  afraid  that  you  would  be 
shot.” 

“ I have  not  a doubt  of  it.  Nevertheless,  your  proposal  pleases 
me,  and  I shall  do  my  best  to  carry  out  your  wishes.” 

Whereupon  Senor  Morena  expressed  his  thanks  in  sonorous 
Castilian,  protested  that  my  courage  and  devotion  would  earn  me 
the  eternal  gratitude  of  every  patriot,  and  promised  to  have  every- 
thing ready  for  me  in  the  course  of  the  week,  a promise  which  he 
faithfully  kept. 

Three  days  later  Morena  brought  me  a packet  of  letters  and  a 
memorandum  containing  minute  instructions  for  my  guidance. 
Nothing  could  be  more  harmless  looking  than  the  letters.  They 
contained  merely  a few  items  of  general  news  and  the  recommen- 
dation of  the  bearer  to  the  good  offices  of  the  recipient.  But  this 
was  only  a blind ; the  real  letters  were  written  in  cipher,  with  sym- 
pathetic ink.  They  were,  moreover,  addressed  to  secret  friends  of 
the  revolutionary  cause,  who,  as  Senor  Morena  believed  and  hoped, 
were,  as  yet,  unsuspected  by  the  Spanish  authorities,  and  at  large. 

“To  give  you  letters  to  known  patriots  would  be  simply  to  in- 
sure your  destruction,”  said  the  senor,  “ even  if  you  were  to  find 
them  alive  and  at  liberty.” 

I had  also  Don  Alberto’s  letter,  and  as  the  old  gentleman  had 
once  been  president  of  the  Audiencia  Real  (Royal  Council),  Morena 
thought  it  would  be  of  great  use  to  me,  and  serve  to  ward  off  sus- 
picion, even  though  some  of  the  friends  to  whom  he  had  himself 
written  should  have  meanwhile  got  into  trouble. 

But  as  if  he  had  not  complete  confidence  in  the  efficacy  of  these 


IN  QUEST  OF  FORTUNE , 47 

elaborate  precautions,  Senor  Morena  strongly  advised  me  to  stay 
no  longer  in  Caracas  than  I could  possibly  help. 

“ Spies  more  vigilant  than  those  of  the  Inquisition  are  con- 
tinually  on  the  lookout  for  victims,”  he  said.  “ An  inadvertent 
word,  a look  even,  might  betray  you  ; the  only  law  is  the  will  of  the 
military  and  the  police,  and  they  make  very  short  work  of  those 
whom  they  suspect.  Yes,  leave  Caracas  the  moment  you  have  de- 
livered your  letters  ; our  friends  will  smuggle  you  through  the 
Spanish  line  and  lead  you  to  one  of  the  patriot  camps.” 

This  was  not  very  encouraging  ; but  I was  at  an  adventurous 
age  and  in  an  enterprising  mood,  and  the  creole’s  warnings  had 
rather  the  effect  of  increasing  my  desire  to  go  forward  with  the 
undertaking  in  which  I had  engaged  than  causing  me  to  falter  in 
my  resolve.  Like  Napoleon,  I believed  in  my  star,  and  I had  faced 
death  too  often  on  the  field  of  battle  to  fear  the  rather  remote 
dangers  Morena  had  foreshadowed,  and  in  whose  existence  I only 
half  believed. 

The  die  being  cast,  the  next  question  was  how  I should  reach 
my  destination.  The  Spaniards  of  that  age  kept  the  trade  with 
their  colonies  in  their  own  hands,  and  it  was  seldom,  indeed,  that  a 
ship  sailed  from  the  Thames  for  La  Guayra  or  any  other  port  on  the 
Main.  I was,  however,  lucky  enough  to  find  a vessel  in  the  river 
taking  in  cargo  for  the  island  of  Curagoa,  which  had  just  been  ceded 
by  England  to  the  Dutch,  from  whom  it  was  captured  in  1 807,  and 
for  a reasonable  consideration  the  master  agreed  to  fit  me  up  a 
cabin  and  give  me  a passage. 

The  voyage  was  rather  long — something  like  fifty  days — yet 
not  altogether  uneventful ; for  in  the  course  of  it  we  were  chased  by 
an  American  privateer,  overhauled  by  a Spanish  cruiser,  nearly 
caught  by  a pirate,  and  almost  swamped  in  a hurricane ; but  we 
fortunately  escaped  these  and  all  other  dangers,  and  eventually 
reached  our  haven  in  safety. 

I had  brought  with  me  letters  of  credit  on  a Dutch  merchant  at 
Curagoa,  of  the  name  of  Van  Voorst,  from  whom  I obtained  as 
much  coin  as  I thought  would  cover  my  expenses  for  a few  months, 
and  left  the  balance  in  his  hands  on  deposit.  With  the  help  of  this 
gentleman,  moreover,  I chartered  a falucha  for  the  voyage  to  La 
Guayra.  Also  at  his  suggestion,  moreover,  I stitched  several  gold 
pieces  in  the  lining  of  my  vest  and  the  waistband  of  my  trousers,  as  a 
reserve  in  case  of  accident. 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


4§ 

We  made  the  run  in  twenty-four  hours,  and  as  the  falucka  let 
go  in  the  roadstead  I tore  up  my  memorandum  of  instructions 
(which  I had  carefully  committed  to  memory)  and  threw  the  frag- 
ments into  the  sea. 

A little  later  we  were  boarded  by  two  revenue  officers,  who 
seemed  more  surprised  than  pleased  t?>  see  me ; as,  however,  my 
papers  were  in  perfect  order,  and  nothing  either  compromising  or 
contraband  was  found  in  my  possession,  they  allowed  me  to  land, 
and  I thought  that  my  troubles  (for  the  present)  were  over.  But  I 
had  not  been  ashore  many  minutes  when  I was  met  by  a sergeant 
and  a file  of  soldiers,  who  asked  me  politely,  yet  firmly,  to  accom- 
pany them  to  the  commandant  of  the  garrison. 

I complied,  of  course,  and  was  conducted  to  the  barracks,  where 
I found  the  gentleman  in  question  lolling  in  a chinchura  (ham- 
mock) and  smoking  a cigar.  He  eyed  me  with  great  suspicion,  and 
after  examining  my  passport,  demanded  my  business,  and  wanted 
to  know  why  I had  taken  it  into  my  head  to  visit  Colombia  at  a 
time  when  the  country  was  being  convulsed  with  civil  war. 

Thinking  it  best  to  answer  frankly  (with  one  or  two  reserva- 
tions), I said  that,  having  heard  much  of  South  America  while 
campaigning  in  Spain,  I had  made  up  my  mind  to  voyage  thither 
on  the  first  opportunity. 

“ What ! you  have  served  in  Spain,  in  the  army  of  Lord  Welling- 
ton ! ” interposed  the  commandant,  with  great  vivacity. 

“ Yes ; I joined  shortly  before  the  battle  of  Salamanca,  where  I 
was  wounded.  I was  also  at  Vittoria,  and 

“ So  was  I.  I commanded  a regiment  in  Murrillo’s  corps  d' armte, 
and  have  come  out  with  him  to  Colombia.  We  are  brothers  in  arms. 
We  have  both  bled  in  the  sacred  cause  of  Spanish  independence. 
Let  me  embrace  you.” 

Whereupon  the  commandant,  springing  from  his  hammock,  put 
his  arms  round  my  neck  and  his  head  on  my  shoulders,  patted  me 
on  the  back,  and  kissed  me  on  both  cheeks,  a salute  which  I thought 
it  expedient  to  return,  though  his  face  was  pot  overclean  and  he 
smelled  abominably  of  garlic  and  stale  tobacco. 

“ So  you  have  come  to  see  South  America— only  to  see  it ! ” he 
said.  “ But  perhaps  you  are  scientific  ; you  have  the  intention  to 
explore  the  country  and  write  a book,  like  the  illustrious  Hum- 
boldt ? ” 

The  idea  was  useful.  I modestly  admitted  that  I did  cultivate 


49 


m quest  of  fortune. 

a little  science,  and  allowed  my  “ brother-in-arms  to  remain  in  the 
belief  that  I proposed  to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  the  author  of 
“Cosmos”— at  a distance. 

“ I have  an  immense  respect  for  science,”  continued  the  com- 
mandant, “ and  I doubt  not  that  you  will  write  a book  which  will 
make  you  famous.  My  only  regret  is,  that  in  the  present  state  of 
the  country  you  may  find  going  about  rather  difficult.  But  it  won  t 
be  for  long.  We  have  well-nigh  got  this  cursed  rebellion  under. 
A few  weeks  more,  and  there  will  not  be  a rebel  left  alive  between 
the  Andes  and  the  Atlantic.  The  Captain-General  of  New  Granada 
reports  that  he  has  either  shot  or  hanged  every  known  patriot  m 
the  province.  We  are  doing  the  same  here  in  Venezuela.  We  give 
no  quarter ; it  is  the  only  way  with  rebels.  Guerra  a la  muerte  ! 

After  this  the  commandant  asked  me  to  dinner,  and  insisted  on 
my  becoming  his  guest  until  the  morrow,  when  he  would  provide 
me  with  mules  for  myself  and  my  baggage,  and  give  me  an  escort 
to  Caracas,  and  letter  of  introduction  to  one  of  his  friends  there.  So 
great  was  his  kindness,  indeed,  that  only  the  ferocious  sentiments 
which  he  had  avowed  in  respect  of  the  rebels  reconciled  me  to  the 
deception  which  I was  compelled  to  practice.  I accepted  his  hos- 
pitality and  his  offer  of  mules  and  an  escort,  and  the  next  morning 
I set  out  on  the  first  stage  of  my  inland  journey.  Before  parting 
he  expressed  a hope— which  I deemed  it  prudent  to  reciprocate— 
that  we  should  meet  again. 

Nothing  can  be  finer  than  the  ride  to  Caracas  by  the  old  Spanish 
road,  or  more  superb  than  its  position  in  a magnificent  valley, 
watered  by  four  rivers,  surrounded  by  a rampart  of  lofty  mountains, 
and  enjoying,  by  reason  of  its  altitude,  a climate  of  perpetual  spring. 
But  the  city  itself  wore  an  aspect  of  gloom  and  desolation.  Four 
years  previously  the  ground  on  which  it  stood  had  been  torn  and 
rent  by  a succession  of  terrible  earthquakes  in  which  hundreds  of 
houses  were  leveled  with  the  earth,  and  thousands  of  its  people 
bereft  of  their  lives.  Since  that  time  two  sieges,  and  wholesale 
proscription  and  executions,  first  by  one  side  and  then  by  the  other, 
had  well-nigh  completed  its  destruction.  Its  principal  buildings 
were  still  in  ruins,  and  half  its  population  had  either  perished  or 
fled.  Nearly  every  civilian  whom  I met  in  the  streets  was  in  mourn- 
ing. Even  the  Royalists  (who  were  more  numerous  than  I expected) 
looked  unhappy,  for  all  had  suffered  either  in  person  or  in  property, 
and  none  knew  what  further  woes  the  future  might  bring  them, 

4 


MR.  FORTE SCUE. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

IN  THE  KING’S  NAME. 

I put  up  at  the  Posada  de  los  Generates  (recommended  by  the 
commandant),  and  the  day  after  my  arrival  I delivered  the  tetters 
confided  to  me  by  Senor  Morena.  This  done,  I felt  safe;  for  (as  I 
thought)  there  was  nothing  else  in  my  posession  by  which  I could 
possibly  be  compromised.  I did  not  deliver  the  letter > sep arate  y. 

I gave  the  packet,  just  as  1 had  received  it,  to  a certain  Sefior  Carera 
the  secret  chief  of'  the  patriot  party  in  Caracas.  I also 
long  verbal  message  from  Morelia,  and  we  discussed  at  length  the 
condition  of  the  country  and  the  prospects  of  the  insurrection, 
the  interior,  he  said,  there  raged  a frightful  g^^a  ^artere  a d 
Caracas  was  under  a veritable  reign  of  terror.  Of  the  half  dozen 
friends  for  whom  I had  brought  tetters,  one  had  been  garoted , 
another  was  in  prison,  and  would  almost  certainly  meet  the  same 
fate.  It  was  only  by  posing  as  a loyalist  and  exercising  the  utmost 
circumspection  that  he  had  so  far  succeeded  in  keeping  a whole  skin , 
and  if  he  were  not  convinced  that  he  could  do  more  for  the  cause 
where  he  was  than  elsewhere,  he  would  not  remain  m the  city 
another  hour.  As  for  myself,  he  was  quite  of  Morena  s opinion, 
that  the  sooner  I got  away  the  better. 

“ I consider  it  my  duty  to  watch  over  your  safety,  he ; sai  . 
should  be  sorry  indeed  were  any  harm  to  befall  an  Eng  is  ca  a ero 
lo  b ss  risked  bis  life  .o  serve  us  and  trough,  u,  such  go«l  n,^ 

“ What  harm  can  befall  me,  now  that  I have  g 

PaCMna’ciytder  martial  law  and  full  of  spies,  there  is  no  telhng 
what  may  happen.  Being,  moreover,  a stranger, you  are  a mar t 
man.  It  is  not  everybody  who,  like  the  commandan  ^Guayra 
will  believe  that  you  are  traveling  for  your  own  pleasure.  Wha 
In  in  his  senses  would  choose  a time  like  this  for  a scientific 

ram.And  then  Sefior  Carera  explained  that  he  could  alT“g® 
to  leave  Caracas  almost  immediately,  under  excellent  guidance 
teniente  of  Colonel  Mejia,  one  of  the  guerilla  leaders,  was  in  the 
on  a secret  errand,  and  would  set  out  on  his  return  journey  in  three 
days.  Tf  l Hked  I might  go  with  him,  and  I could  not  have  a better 
guide  or  a more  trustworthy  companion. 


IN  THE  KING'S  NAME. 


51 


It  was  a chance  not  to  be  lost.  I told  Senor  Carera  that  I should 
only  be  too  glad  to  profit  by  the  opportunity,  and  that  on  any  day 
and  at  any  hour  which  he  might  name  I would  be  ready. 

“ I will  see  the  teniente , and  let  you  know  further  in  the  course 
of  to-morrow/’  said  Carera,  after  a moment’s  thought.  “ The  affair 
will  require  nice  management.  There  are  patrols  on  every  road. 
You  must  be  well  mounted,  and  I suppose  you  will  want  a mule  for 
your  baggage.” 

“ No  ! I shall  take  no  more  than  I can  carry  in  my  saddle-bags. 
We  must  not  be  incumbered  with  pack-mules  on  an  expedition  of 
this  sort.  We  may  have  to  ride  for  our  lives.” 

“You  are  quite  right,  Senor  Fortescue;  so  you  may.  I will  see 
that  you  are  well  mounted,  and  I shall  be  delighted  to  take  charge 
of  your  belongings  until  the  patriots  again,  and  for  the  last  time, 
capture  Caracas  and  drive  those  thrice  accursed  Spaniards  into  the 
sea.” 

Before  we  separated  I invited  Senor  Carera  to  almuerzo  (the 
equivalent  to  the  Continental  second  breakfast)  on  the  following  day. 

After  a moment’s  reflection  he  accepted  the  invitation.  “But 
we  shall  have  to  be  very  cautious,”  he  added.  “ The  posada  is  a 
Royalist  house,  and  the  posadero  (inn-keeper)  is  hand  and  glove 
with  the  police.  If  we  speak  of  the  patriots  at  all,  it  must  be  only 
to  abuse  them.  . . . But  our  turn  will  come,  and  then— por  Dios! 
— then — ” 

The  fierce  light  in  Carera’s  eyes,  and  the  gesture  by  which  his 
words  were  emphasized,  boded  ill  for  the  Royalists  if  the  patriots 
should  get  the  upper  hand.  No  wonder  that  a war  in  which  men 
like  him  were  engaged  on  the  one  side,  and  men  like  el  Comman- 
dant Castro  on  the  other,  should  be  savage,  merciless,  and  “ to  the 
death.” 

As  I had  decided  to  quit  Caracas  so  soon,  it  did  not  seem  worth 
while  presenting  the  letter  to  one  of  his  brother  officers  which  I had 
received  from  Commandant  Castro.  I thought,  too,  that  in  existing 
circumstances  the  less  I had  to  do  with  officers  the  better.  But  I 
did  not  like  the  idea  of  going  away  without  fulfilling  my  promise  to 
call  on  Zamorra’s  old  friend,  Don  Sefior  Ulloa. 

So  when  I returned  to  the  posada  I asked  the  posadero  (inn- 
keeper), a tall  Biscayan,  with  an  immensely  long  nose,  a cringing 
manner,  and  an  insincere  smile,  if  he  would  kindly  direct  me  to 
Senor  Ulloa’s  house. 


52 


MR.  FORTE SCUE. 


“ Si,  seiior, ” said  the'  posadero,  giving  me  a queer  look,  and  ex- 
changing significant  glances  with  two  or  three  of  his  guests  who 
were  within  earshot.  “ Si,  senor,  I can  direct  you  to  the  house  of 
Senor  Ulloa.  You  mean  Don  Simon,  of  course  ? ” 

“Yes.  I have  a letter  of  introduction  to  him.” 

“ Oh,  you  have  a letter  of  introduction  to  Don  Simon ! If  you 
will  come  into  the  street  I will  show  you  the  way.” 

Whereupon  we  went  outside,  and  the  posadero,  pointing  out  the 
Church  of  San  lldefonso,  told  me  that  the  large  house  over  against 
the  eastern  door  was  the  house  I sought. 

“ Gracias,  senor,"  I said,  as  I started  on  my  errand,  taking  the 
shady  side  of  the  street  and  walking  slowly,  for  the  day  was  warm. 

I walked  slowly  and  thought  deeply,  trying  to  make  out  what 
could  be  the  meaning  of  the  glances  which  the  mention  of  Senor 
Ulloa’s  name  had  evoked,  and  there  was  a nameless  something  in 
the  posadero  s manner  I did  not  like.  Besides  being  cringing,  as 
usual,  it  was  half  mocking,  half  menacing,  as  if  I had  said,  or  he 
had  heard,  something  that  placed  me  in  his  power. 

Yet  what  could  he  have  heard  ? What  could  there  be  in  the 
name  of  Ulloa  to  either  excite  his  enmity  or  rouse  his  suspi- 
cions ? As  a man  in  authority  and  the  particular  friend  of  an  ex- 
president of  the  Audiencia  Real,  Don  Simon  must  needs  be  above 
reproach. 

Should  I turn  back  and  ask  the  posadera  what  he  meant . JNo, 
that  were  both  weak  and  impolitic.  He  would  either  answer  me 
with  a lie,  or  refuse  to  answer  at  all,  and  qui  s excuse  s accuse.  I 
resolved  to  go  on,  and  see  what  came  of  it.  Don  Simon  would  no 
doubt  be  able  to  enlighten  me. 

I found  his  place  without  difficulty.  There  could  be  no  mis- 
taking it— a large  house  over  against  the  eastern  door  of  the  Church 
of  San  lldefonso,  built  round  a patio , or  courtyard,  after  the  fash- 
ion of  Spanish  and  South  American  mansions.  like  the  church,  it 
seemed  to  have  been  much  damaged  by  the  earthquake  ; the  outer 
walls  were  cracked,  and  the  gateway  was  incumbered  with  fallen 
stones. 

This  surprised  me  less  than  may  be  supposed.  Creoles  are  not 
remarkable  for  energy,  and  it  was  quite  possible  that  Senor  Ulloa  s 
fortunes  might  have  suffered  as  severely  from  the  war  as  his  house 
had  suffered  from  the  earthquake.  But  when  I entered  the  patio 
I was  more  than  surprised.  The  only  visible  signs  of  life  weie 


IN  THE  KING'S  NAME . 


53 


lizards,  darting  in  and  out  of  their  holes,  and  a huge  rattlesnake 
sunning  himself  under  the  ledge  of  a broken  fountain.  Grass  was 
growing  between  the  stones ; rotten  doors  hung  on  rusty  hinges ; 
there  were  great  gaps  in  the  roof  and  huge  fissures  in  the  walls, 
and  when  I called  no  one  answered. 

“ Surely,”  I thought,  “ I have  made  some  mistake.  This  house 
is  both  deserted  and  ruined.” 

I returned  to  the  street  and  accosted  a passer-by. 

“ Is  this  the  house  of  Don  Simon  Ulloa  ? ” I asked  him. 
v Si,  Sehor ,”  he  said  ; and  then  hurried  on  as  if  my  question  had 
half-frightened  him  out  of  his  wits. 

I could  not  tell  what  to  make  of  this ; but  my  first  idea  was  that 
Senor  Ulloa  was  dead,  and  the  house  had  the  reputation  of  being 
haunted.  In  any  case,  the  innkeeper  had  evidently  played  me  a 
scurvy  trick,  and  I went  back  to  the  posada  with  the  full  intention 
of  having  it  out  with  him. 

“ Did  you  find  the  house  of  Don  Simon,  Senor  Fortescue?  ” he 
asked  when  he  saw  me. 

“ Yes,  but  I did  not  find  him.  The  house  is  empty  and  deserted. 
What  do  you  mean  by  sending  me  on  such  a fool’s  errand  ? ” 

“ I beg  your  pardon,  senor.  You  asked  me  to  direct  you  to 
Senor  Ulloa’s  house,  and  I did  so.  What  could  I do  more  ? ” And 
the  fellow  cringed  and  smirked,  as  if  it  were  all  a capital  joke,  till  I 
could  hardly  refrain  from  pulling  his  long  nose  first  and  kicking  him 
afterwards,  but  I listened  to  the  voice  of  prudence  and  resisted  the 
impulse. 

“ You  know  quite  well  that  I sought  Senor  Ulloa.  Did  I not 
tell  you  that  I had  a letter  for  him  ? If  you  were  a caballero  in- 
stead of  a wretched  posadero,  I would  chastise  your  trickery  as  it 
deserves.  What  has  become  of  Senor  Ulloa,  and  how  comes  it 
that  his  house  is  deserted  ? ” 

“ Senor  Ulloa  is  dead.  He  was  garoted.” 

“ Garoted  ! What  for  ? ” 

“ Treason.  There  was  discovered  a compromising  correspond- 
ence between  him  and  Bolivar.  But  why  ask  me  ? As  a friend  of 
Senor  Ulloa,  you  surely  know  all  this  ? ” 

“ I never  was  a friend  of  his — never  even  saw  him  ! I had  merely 
a letter  to  him  from  a common  friend.  But  how  happened  it  that 
Seiior  Ulloa,  who,  I believe,  was  a correjidor , entered  into  a corre- 
spondence with  the  arch-traitor  ? ” 


54 


MR.  FOR  FESCUE. 


« That  made  it  all  the  worse.  He  richly  deserved  his  fate.  His 
eldest  son.  who  was  privy  to  the  affair,  was  strangled  at  the  same 
time  as  his  father;  his  other  children  fled,  and  Senora  Ulloa  died  of 

gUe“Poor  woman!  No  wonder  the  house  is  deserted.  What  a 

frightful  state  of  things ! ” . , T 

And  then,  feeling  that  I had  said  enough,  and  fearing  that 
might  say  more,  I turned  on  my  heel,  lighted  a cigar,  and,  while  I 
paced  to  and  fro  in  the  patio,  seriously  considered  my  position, 
which,  as  I clearly  perceived,  was  beginning  to  be  rather  precarious. 

As  likely  as  not  the  innkeeper  would  denounce  me,  and  then  it 
would,  of  course,  be  very  absurd,  for  I was  utterly  ignorant,  and 
Zamorra,  a Royalist  to  the  bone,  must  have  been 
that  his  friend  Ulloa  had  any  hand  in  the  rebellion.  The  mere  f 
of  carrying  a harmless  letter  of  introduction  from  a well-known  loy- 
1,  to  . friend  whom  be  believed  to  be  still  a loyalist  could  surely 
not  be  construed  as  an  offense.  At  any  rate,  it  ough  not  to  be. 
But  when  I recalled  all  I had  heard  from  Morena,  and  the  stories 
told  me  but  an  hour  before  by  Carera,  I thought  it  extremely  prob- 
able that  it  would  be,  and  bitterly  regretted  that  I had  not  men- 
tioned to  the  latter  Ulloa’s  name.  He  would  have  put  me  on  my 
guard,  and  I should  not  have  so  fatally  committed  myself  with  the 

^But  regrets  are  useless,  and  worse.  They  waste  time  and  weaken 

resolve.  The  question  of  the  moment  was,  What  should  I do  . ow 

avoid  the  danger  which  I felt  sure  was  impending?  There  seeme 
only  one  way— immediate  flight.  I would  go  to  Carera,  tell  him  all 
that  had  happened,  and  ask  him  to  arrange  for  my  departure  from 
Caracas  that  very  night.  I could  steal  away  unseen  when  all  was 

qU1^At  once,”  I said  to  myself-”  at  once.  If  I exaggerate  if  the 
danger  be  not  so  pressing  as  I fear,  he  is  just  the  man  to  tell  me; 
butffirst  of  all,  I will  go  into  my  room  and  destroy  this  confounde 
letter.  The  posadero  did  not  see  it.  All  that  he  can  say  is 

« In  the  king’s  name  ! ” exclaimed  a rough  voice  behind  me  , and 

a heavy  hand  was  laid  on  my  arm. 

Turning  sharply  round,  I found  myself  confronted  by  an  officer 
of  police  and  four  alguazils,  all  armed  to  the  teeth. 

' “ I arrest  you  in  the  king’s  name,”  repeated  the  officer, 

« On  what  charge  ? ” I asked. 


DOOMED  TO  DIE. 


55 


“ Treason.  Giving  aid  and  comfort  to  the  king's  enemies  and 
acting  as  a medium  of  communication  between  rebels  against  i 

aUt  “°Very  well ; I am  ready  to  accompany  you,”  I said,  seeing  that, 
for  the  moment  at  least,  resistance  and  escape  were  equally  out  of 

the  question ; “ but  the  charge  is  false. 

‘‘That  I have  nothing  to  do  with.  The  case  is  one  for  the  mili- 

tary  tribunal.  Before  we  go  I must  search  your  room. 

■ He  did  so,  and,  except  my  passport,  found  nothing  whoever  of 
a documentary,  much  less  of  a compromising  character  He  the 

searched  me,  and  took  possession  of  Za™°"as  un  "C  ^ 

Ulloa  and  my  memorandum-book,  in  which,  however,  there  wer 
merely  a few  commonplace  notes  and  scientific  jottags- 

This  done,  he  placed  two  of  his  alguazils  on  either  side  of  me 
telling  them  to  run  me  through  with  their  bayonets  if  ^ttemptedto 
escape,  and  then,  drawing  his  sword  and  bringing  up  e re  , g 
the  order  to  march. 

As  we  passed  through  the  gateway  I caught  sight  of  the  fos- 
dero,  laughing  consumedly,  and  pointing  at  me  the  finger  of  scorn 
and  triumph  How  sorry  I felt  that  I had  not  kicked  him  when  I 
was  in  the  humor  and  had  the  opportunity  . 


CHAPTER  IX. 

DOOMED  TO  DIE. 

My  captors  conducted  me  to  a dilapidated  building  near  the 
Plaza  Major,  which  did  duty  as  a temporary  jail,  the  principal 
prison  of  Caracas  having  been  destroyed  by  the  earthquake  and  left 
as  it  fell.  Nevertheless,  the  room  to  which  I was  taken  seemed 
quite  strong  enough  to  hold  anybody  unsupplied  with  housebreak- 
ing implements  or  less  ingenious  than  Jack  Sheppard.  The  oor 
was  thick  and  well  bolted,  the  window  or  grating  (for  it  was,  ot 
course,  destitute  of  glass)  high  and  heavily  barred,  yet  not  too 
high  to  be  reached  with  a little  contrivance.  Mounting  the  sin- 
gle chair  (besides  a hammock  the  only  furniture  the  room  con- 
tained), I gripped  the  bars  with  my  hands,  raised  myself  up,  and 
looked  out.  Below  me  was  a narrow,  and,  as  it  might  appear,  a 


MR.  FORTESCUE. 


56 

little-frequented  street,  at  the  end  of  which  a sentry  was  doing  his 
monotonous  spell  of  duty. 

The  place  was  evidently  well  guarded,  and  from  the  number  of 
soldiers  whom  I had  seen  about  the  gateway  and  in  the  patio,  I 
concluded  that,  besides  serving  as  a jail,  it  was  used  also  as 
a military  post.  Even  though  I might  get  out,  I should  not  find  it 
very  easy  to  get  away.  And  what  were  my  chances  of  getting  out  ? 
As  yet  they  seemed  exceedingly  remote.  The  only  possible  exits 
were  the  door  and  the  window.  The  door  was  both  locked  and 
bolted,  and  either  to  open  or  make  an  opening  in  it  I should  want  a 
brace  and  bit  and  a saw,  and  several  hours’  freedom  from  intrusion. 
It  would  be  easier  to  cut  the  bars— if  I possessed  a file  or  a suitable 
saw.  I had  my  knife,  and  with  time  and  patience  I might  possibly 
fashion  a tool  that  would  answer  the  purpose. 

But  time  was  just  what  I might  not  be  able  to  command.  I 
had  heard  that  the  sole  merit  of  the  military  tribunal  was  its 
promptitude ; it  never  kept  its  victims  long  in  suspense  ; they  were 
either  quickly  released  or  as  quickly  dispatched  the  latter  being 
the  alternative  most  generally  adopted.  It  was  for  this  reason  that, 
the  moment  I was  arrested,  I began  to  think  how  I could  escape. 
As  neither  opening  the  door  nor  breaking  the  bars  seemed  immedi- 
ately feasible,  the  idea  of  bribing  the  turnkey  naturally  occurred  to 
me.  Thanks  to  the  precaution  suggested  by  Mr.  Van  Voorst,  I 
had  several  gold  pieces  in  my  belt.  But  though  the  fellow  would 
no  doubt  accept  my  money,  what  security  had  I that  he  would  keep 
his  word  ? And  how,  even  if  he  were  to  leave  the  door  open,  should 
I evade  the  vigilance  of  the  sentries  and  the  soldiers  who  were 
always  loitering  in  the  patio  ? 

On  the  whole,  I thought,  the  best  thing  I could  do  was  to  wait 
quietly  until  the  morrow.  The  night  is  often  fruitful  in  ideas.  I 
might  be  acquitted,  after  all,  and  if  I attempted  to  bribe  the  turnkey 
before  my  examination,  and  he  should  betray  me  to  his  superiors, 
my  condemnation  would  be  a foregone  conclusion.  The  mere  at- 
tempt would  be  regarded  as  an  admission  of  guilt. 

A while  later,  the  zambo  turnkey  (half  Indian,  half  negro), 
brought  me  my  evening  meal — a loaf  of  bread  and  a small  bottle  of 
wine_and  I studied  his  countenance  closely.  It  was  both  treach- 
erous and  truculent,  and  I felt  that  if  I trusted  him  he  would  be 
sure  to  play  me  false. 

A s it  was  near  sunset  I asked  for  a light,  and  tried  to  engage 


DOOMED  TO  DIE . 


5 7 


him  in  conversation.  But  the  attempt  failed.  He  answered  surlily, 
that  a dark  room  was  quite  good  enough  for  a damned  rebel,  and 
left  me  to  myself. 

When  it  became  too  dark  to  walk  about,  I lay  down  in  the  ham- 
mock and  was  soon  in  the  land  of  dreams  ; for  I was  young  and 
sanguine,  and  though  I could  not  help  feeling  somewhat  anxious,  it 
was  not  the  sort  of  anxiety  which  kills  sleep.  Only  once  in  my  life 
have  I tasted  the  agony  of  despair.  That  time  was  not  yet. 

When  I awoke  the  clock  of  a neighboring  church  was  striking 
three,  and  the  rays  of  a brilliant  tropical  moon  were  streaming 
through  the  barred  window  of  my  room,  making  it  hardly  less  light 
than  day. 

As  the  echo  of  the  last  stroke  dies  away,  I fancy  that  I hear 
something  strike  against  the  grating. 

I rise  up  in  my  hammock,  listening  intently,  and  at  the  same  in- 
stant a small  shower  of  pebbles,  flung  by  an  unseen  hand,  falls  into 
the  room. 

A signal ! 

Yes,  and  a signal  that  demands  an  answer.  In  less  time  than  it 
takes  to  tell  I slip  from  my  hammock,  gather  up  the  pebbles,  climb 
up  to  the  window,  and  drop  them  into  the  street.  Then,  looking 
out,  I can  just  discern,  deep  in  the  shadow  of  the  building  opposite, 
the  figure  of  a man.  He  raises  his  arm  ; something  white  flies  over 
my  head  and  falls  on  the  floor.  Dropping  hurriedly  from  the  grat- 
ing, I pick  up  the  messsage-bearing  missile— a pebble  to  which  is 
tied  a piece  of  paper.  I can  see  that  the  paper  contains  writing,  and 
climbing  a second  time  up  to  the  grating,  I make  out  by  the  light 
of  the  moonbeams  the  words — 

“ If  you  are  condemned , ask  for  a priest. 

My  first  feeling  was  one  of  bitter  disappointment.  Why  should 
I ask  for  a priest  ? I was  not  a Roman  Catholic  ; I did  not  want  to 
confess.  If  the  author  of  the  missive  was  Carera— and  who  else 
could  it  be  ? — why  had  he  given  himself  so  much  trouble  to  make 
so  unpleasantly  suggestive  a recommendation  ? A priest,  forsootn  ! 
A file  and  a cord  would  be  much  more  to  the  purpose.  . . . But 
might  not  the  words  mean  more  than  appeared  ? Could  it  be  that 
Carera  desired  to  give  me  a friendly  hint  to  prepare  for  the  worst . 
...  Or  was  it  possible  that  the  ghostly  man  would  bring  me  a fur- 
ther message  and  help  me  in  some  way  to  escape  ? At  any  rate,  it 
was  a more  encouraging  theory  than  the  other,  and  I resolved  to  act 


58 


MR.  FORTE SCUE. 


on  it.  If  the  priest  did  me  no  good,  he  could,  at  least,  do  me  no 
har  After  tearing  up  the  bit  of  paper  and  chewing  the  fragments,  I 

returned  to  my  hammock  and  lay  awake-sleep  being  now  out  of 

Se  quest  on-until  the  turnkey  brought  me  a cup  of  chocolate,  of 
wSich  S the  remains  of  the  loaf,  I made  my  first  break  ast. 
About  the  middle  of  the  day  he  brought  me  something  more  subs- 
tantial e()n  both  occasions  I pressed  him  with  questions  as  to 
Sen  I was  to  be  examined,  and  what  they  were  going  to  do  with 
le  to  ah  of  which  he  answered  “A*  (“  I don  t know  ) and, 

probably  enough,  he  told  the  truth.  However,  I was  not  kept  g 
n susnense  Later  on  in  the  afternoon  the  door  opened  for  the  third 
Le  and  the  officer  who  had  arrested  me,  followed  by  his  alguazils 
appeared  at  the  threshold  and  announced  that  he  had  been  ordere 

to  escort  me  to  the  tribunal.  , 

We  went  in  the  same  order  as  before  ; and  a walk  of  less  t 
fifteen  minutes  brought  us  to  another  tumble-down  building,  whic 
appearS  to'have  bell  once  a court-house.  Only  the  lower  rooms 
were  habitable,  and  at  a door,  on  either  side  of  which  stood 
sentrv,  my  conductor  respectfully  knocked. 

- Adelante!  ” said  a rough  voice ; and  we  entered  according  y. 
Before  a long  table  at  the  upper  end  of  a large,  bare.y-furms 
room  with  rough  walls  and  a cracked  ceiling,  sat  three  men  in  uni- 
form.’ The  one  who  occupied  the  chief  seat,  and  seemed  to  be  the 
president,  was  old  and  gray,  with  hard,  suspicious  eyes,  and  a long, 
tvDical  Spanish  face,  in  every  line  of  which  I read  crue  y 
^termination.  His  colleagues,  who  called  him  ‘‘marquis 
Treated  him  with  great  deference,  and  his  breast  was  covered  with 

'^Itwas  evident  that  on  this  man  would  depend  my  fate.  The 
others  were  there  merely  to  register  his  decrees.  , 

After  leading  me  to  the  table  and  saluting  the  tnbun f ** 
officer  of  police,  whose  sword  was  still  drawn,  placed  himself  in  a 
, onvenient*  position  for  running  m«  through,  in  the  even,  of  nr» 
behaving  disrespectfully  to  the  tribunal  or  attempting  to  escape 

The  president,  who  had  before  him  the  letter  to  Senor  Ulloa,  my 
passport  and  a document  that  looked  like  a brief,  demanded  my 
name  and  quality, 

I told  him.  , , 

*<  What  was  your  purpose  in  coming  to  Caracas  , he  as  e . 


DOOMED  TO  DIE . 


59 


“ Simply  to  see  the  country." 

He  laughed  scornfully. 

“ To  see  the  country  ! What  nonsense  is  this  ? How  can  any- 
body  see  a country  which  is  ravaged  by  brigands  and  convulsed 
with  civil  war  ? And  where  is  your  authority  ? ” 

“ My  passport." 

“ A passport  such  as  this  is  only  available  in  a time  of  peace. 
No  stranger  unprovided  with  a safe  conduct  from  the  caftitan-gen - 
eral  is  allowed  to  travel  in  the  province  of  Caracas.  It  is  useless 
trying  to  deceive  us,  senor.  Your  purpose  is  to  carry  information 
to  the  rebels,  probably  to  join  them,  as  is  proved  by  your  posses- 
sion of  a letter  to  so  base  a traitor  as  Senor  Ulloa." 

On  this  I explained  how  I had  obtained  the  letter,  and  pointed 
out  that  the  very  fact  of  my  asking  the  posadero  to  direct  me  to 
Ulloa’s  house,  and  going  thither  openly,  was  proof  positive  of  my 
innocence.  Had  my  purpose  been  that  which  he  imputed  to  me,  l 
should  have  shown  more  caution. 

“ That  does  not  at  all  follow,"  rejoined  the  president.  “ You  ma} 
have  intended  to  disarm  suspicion  by  a pretense  of  ignorance. 
Moreover,  you  expressed  to  the  senor  posadero  sentiments  hostile 
to  the  Government  of  his  Majesty  the  King. 

“It  is  untrue.  I did  nothing  of  the  sort,"  I exclaimed,  impetu- 
ously. 

“Mind  what  you  say,  prisoner.  Unless  you  treat  the  tribunal 
with  due  respect  you  shall  be  sent  back,  to  the  car  cel,  and  tried  in 
your  absence." 

“ Do  you  call  this  a trial  ? " I exclaimed,  indignantly.  “Iam  a 
British  subject.  I have  committed  no  offense  ; but  if  I must  be 
tried  I demand  the  right  of  being  tried  by  a civil  tribunal, 

“ British  subjects  who  venture  into  a city  under  martial  law 
must  take  the  consequences.  We  can  show  them  no  more  consid- 
eration than  we  show  Spanish  subjects.  They  deserve  much  less, 
indeed.  At  this  moment  a force  is  being  organized  in  England, 
with  the  sanction  and  encouragement  of  the  British  Government,  to 
serve  against  our  troops  in  these  colonies.  This  is  an  act  of  war, 
and  if  the  king,  my  master,  were  of  my  mind,  he  would  declare  war 
against  England.  Better  an  open  foe  than  a treacherous  friend. 
Do  you  hold  a commission  in  the  Legion,  senor  ? ” 

“ No." 

“ Know  you  anybody  who  does  ? ” 


6o 


MR.  FORTESCUE. 


1 


-Yes*  I believe  that  several  men  with  whom  1 served  in  Spam 
have  Accepted  commissions.  But  you  will  surely  no.  hold  me  re- 

SP“‘“: mail1”  Y^tove'qnhe  enough  sins  of  you,  own  an- 
swer  for  You  may  not  actually  hold  a commission  in  this  force  o^ 
filibusters  but  you  are  acquainted  with  people  who  do  ; and  fro 

“ own  admission  and  facts  that  have  come  , o«r  know  edge, 

le  beheve  that  you  are  acting  as  an  intermedia',  bet  ween  the  r ^ 
l ^ *n  +u;s  country  and  their  agents  in  England. 

^VunSerSdJg  to  .«»  us  that  ,»  have  come  her.  out  o , « 
curiosity.  You  have  come  to  spy  out  the  nakedness  of  the  , 
hpimr  a soldier  you  know  how  spies  are  dealt  witn. 

Hm?.he  pmsiden.  held  a whispered  consultation  with  h.s  col- 

JeSoh;rS“.h,Tair^styouhave  been  fuhy 
made”..  id  sentence  of  the  court  is  tog.  be  stmngled  on 
the  Plata  Major  to-morrow  mornmg  a.  ™ e 

••  Strangled  1 Surely,  sehores,  ,«  w,U  no,  comm,.  ^ 

infamy?  This  is  a mere  mockery  of  a trial. 

an  indictment  nor  been  confronted  by  witnesses.  Call  this 

yorTdo'1  not  "moderate  your  language,  prisoner  youwffi  be 
strangled  to-night  instead  ’’-writing, 

to  the  officer  of  police.  „ * k d smothering  my  indigna- 

■ ■“  * ..  to.  fought  and  Sled  for  Spain. 

S’ “MIS  rPat.dier'sy  dwrth.  and  allow  me  before  . die  to 

ciously.  ^Sefior  Fortesoie’s  request.  Instead  of  being  strangled 

"raCshoTb;  a Mng  par,  - - *** "i  - 
I’wihmyself  we  that'yombodyfs  laid  in  consecrated  ground.  When 

would  you  like  the  priest  to  visit  you  ^ much  time 

- This  evening,  senor  president.  There  will  not 

to-morrow  morning/’  caj)itan.  Tell  them  at  the  car  cel  that 

“ That  1S  true‘  ’ Dr;est  in  his  own  room  this  evening. 

Sefior  Fortescue  may  see  a priest  m ms  v 

Adios  senor!  ” 


SALVADOR. 


61 


And  with  that  my  three  judges  rose  from  their  seats  and  bowed 
as  politely  as  if  they  were  parting  with  an  honored  guest.  Though 
this  proceeding  struck  me  as  being  both  ghastly  and  grotesque,  I 
returned  the  greeting  in  due  form,  and  made  my  best  bow.  I 
learned  afterward  that  I had  really  been  treated  with  exceptional 
consideration,  and  might  esteem  myself  fortunate  in  not  being  con- 
demned without  trial  and  strangled  without  notice. 


CHAPTER  X. 

SALVADOR. 


Now  that  I knew  beyond  a doubt  what  would  be  my  fate  unless 
I could  escape  before  morning,  I became  decidedly  anxious  as  to 
the  outcome  of  my  approaching  interview  with  the  ghostly  com- 
forter for  whom  I had  asked.  It  was  my  last  chance.  If  it  failed 
me,  or  the  man  turned  out  to  be  a priest  and  nothing  more,  my 
hours  were  numbered.  The  time  was  too  short  to  arrange  any  other 
plan.  Would  he  bring  with  him  a file  and  a cord  ? Even  if  he  did, 
we  could  hardly  hope  to  cut  through  the  bars  before  daylight.  And 
most  important  consideration  of  all,  how  would  Carera  contrive  to 


send  me  the  right  man  ? 

The  mystery  was  solved  more  quickly  than  I expected. 

After  leaving  the  tribunal,  my  escort  took  me  back  by  the  way 
we  had  come,  the  police  captain,  who  was  showing  himself  much 
more  friendly  (probably  because  he  looked  on  me  as  a good  “ Chris- 
tian ” and  a dying  man),  walking  beside  instead  of  behind  me ; and 
when  we  were  within  a hundred  yards  or  so  of  the  car  cel  I observed 
a Franciscan  friar  pacing  slowly  toward  us. 

I felt  intuitively  that  this  was  my  man;  and  when  he  drew 
nearer  a slight  movement  of  his  eyebrows  and  a quick  look  of  intelli- 
gence told  me  that  I was  right. 

“ I have  no  acquaintance  among  the  clergy  of  Caracas,”  I said 
to  my  conductor.  “ This  friar  will  serve  my  purpose  as  well  as  a 
regular  priest.” 

“ As  you  like,  senor.  Shall  I ask  him  to  see  you  ? ” 

“ Gracias  senor  capitan , if  you  please.” 

Whereupon  the  officer  respectfullv  accosted  the  friar,  and  after 


I 


6 2 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


telling  him  that  I had  been  condemned  to  die  at  sunrise  on  the  mor- 
row, asked  if  he  would  receive  my  confession  and  give  me  such 
religious  consolation  as  my  case  required. 

“Con  mucho  gusto,  capitan ,”  answered  the  friar.  “When 
would  the  senor  like  me  to  visit  him?  ” 

“ At  once>  father.  My  hours  are  numbered,  and  I would  fain 
spend  the  night  in  meditation  and  prayer.” 

“ Come  with  us,  father,”  said  the  captain.  “ The  senor  has  the 
permission  of  the  tribunal  to  see  a priest  in  his  own  room.” 

So  we  entered  the  prison  together,  and  the  captain,  having 
given  the  necessary  instructions  to  the  turnkey,  we  were  conducted 
to  my  room. 

“ When  you  have  done/’  he  said,  “ knock  at  the  door,  and  I will 
come  and  let  you  out/’ 

“ Good  1 But  you  need  not  wait.  I shall  not  be  ready  for  half 
an  hour  or  more.” 

As  the  key  turned  in  the  lock,  the  soz-dzsant  friar  threw  back 
his  cowl.  “ Now,  Senor  Fortescue,”  he  said,  with  a laugh,  “ I am 
ready  to  hear  your  confession.” 

I confess  that  I feel  as  if  I were  in  purgatory  already,  and  I 
shall  be  uncommonly  glad  if  you  can  get  me  out  of  it.” 

“ We!1’  Purgatory  is  not  the  pleasantest  of  places  by  all  accounts, 
and  I am  quite  willing  to  do  whatever  I can  for  you.  By  way  of 
beginning,  take  this  ointment  and  smear  your  face  and  hands  there- 
with.” 

“Why?” 

“To  make  you  look  swart  and  ugly,  like  the  zambo.” 

“ And  then  ? ” 

And  then  ? When  the  turnkey  comes  back  we  shall  overpower, 
bind,  and  gag  him— if  he  resists,  strangle  him.  Then  you  will 
put  on  his  clothes  and  don  his  sombrero,  and  as  the  moon  rises 
late,  and  the  prison  is  badly  lighted,  I have  no  doubt  we  shall  run 
the  gantlet  of  the  guard  without  difficulty.  . . . That  is  a splen- 
did ointment.  You  are  almost  as  dark  as  a negro.  Now  for  your 
feet.” 

“ My  feet ! I see  ! I must  go  out  barefoot.” 

Of  course.  Who  ever  heard  of  a zambo  turnkey  wearing 
shoes  ? I will  hide  yours  under  my  habit,  and  you  can  put  them  on 
afterward.” 

“ You  are  a friend  of  Carera’s,  of  course  ?-” 


SALVADOR.  63 

“ Yes ; I am  Salvador  Carmen,  the  teniente  of  Colonel  Mejia,  at 
your  service.” 

“ Salvador  Carmen ! A name  of  good  omen.  You  are  saving 
me.” 

“ I will  either  save  you  or  perish  with  you.  Take  this  dagger. 
Better  to  die  fighting  than  be  strangled  on  the  plaza.” 

“ Is  this  your  plan  or  Carera’s ? ” I asked,  as  I put  the  dagger  in 
my  belt. 

“ Partly  his  and  partly  mine,  I think.  When  he  heard  of  your 
arrest,  he  said*  that  it  concerned  our  honor  to  effect  your  rescue. 
The  idea  of  throwing  a stone  through  the  window  was  Carera’s ; 
that  of  personating  a priest  was  mine.” 

“ But  how  did  Carera  find  out  where  I was  ? and  what  assurance 
had  you  that  when  I asked  for  a priest  they  would  bring  you  ? ” 

“ That  was  easy  enough.  This  is  a small  military  post  as  well 
as  an  occasional  prison.  Some  of  the  soldiers  are  always  drinking 
at  th  z pul  fieri  a round  the  corner,  and  they  talk  in  their  cups.  I even 
know  the  countersign  for  to-night.  It  is  ‘Baylen.’  I saw  them 
take  you  to  the  tribunal,  and  as  I knew  that  when  you  asked  for  a 
priest  that  they  would  call  in  the  first  whom  they  saw,  just  to  save 
themselves  the  trouble  of  going  farther,  I took  care  to  be  hereabout 
in  this  guise  as  you  returned.  I was  fortunate  enough  to  meet  you 
face  to  face,  and  you  were  sharp  enough  to  detect  my  true  character 
at  a glance.” 

“ I am  greatly  indebted  to  you  and  Senor  Carera — more  than  I 
can  say.  You  are  risking  your  lives  to  save  mine.” 

“ That  is  nothing,  my  dear  sir.  I often  risk  my  life  twenty  times 
in  a day.  And  what  matters  it?  We  are  all  under  sentence  of 
death.  A few  years  and  there  will  be  an  end  of  us.” 

Salvador  Carmen  may  have  been  twenty-six  or  twenty-eight 
years  old.  He  was  of  middle  height  and  athletic  build,  yet  wiry 
withal,  in  splendid  condition,  and  as  hard  as  nails.  Though  darker 
than  the  average  Spaniard,  his  short,  wavy  hair  and  powerful,  clear- 
cut  features  showed  that  his  blood  was  free  from  negro  or  Indian 
taint.  Plis  face  bespoke  a strange  mixture  of  gentleness  and  reso- 
lution, melancholy  and  ferocity,  as  if  an  originally  fine  nature  had 
been  annealed  by  fiery  trials,  and  perhaps  perverted  by  some  terri- 
ble wrong. 

“ Yes,  senor,  we  carry  our  lives  in  our  hands  in  this  most  un- 
happy country/’  he  continued,  after  a short  pause.  “ Three  years 


MR.  FORTE  SCUE. 


64 

ago  I was  one  of  a family  of  eight,  and  no  happier  family  could  be 
found  in  the  whole  capitanio-general  of  Caracas.  ...  Of  those 
eight,  seven  are  gone  ; I am  the  only  one  left.  Four  were  killed  in 
the  great  earthquake.  Then  my  father  took  part  in  the  revolu- 
tionary movement,  and  to  save  his  life  had  to  leave  his  home.  One 
night  he  returned  in  disguise  to  see  my  mother.  I happened  to  be 
away  at  the  time  ; but  my  brother  Tomas  was  there,  and  the  police, 
getting  wind  of  my  fathers  arrival,  arrested  both  them  and  him. 
My  father  was  condemned  as  a rebel ; my  mother  and  brother  were 
condemned  for  harboring  him,  and  all  were  strangled  together  on 
the  plaza  there.” 

“ Good  heaven  ! Can  such  things  be  ? ” I said,  as  much  moved 
by  his  grief  as  by  his  tale  of  horror. 

“ I saw  them  die.  Oh,  my  God ! I saw  them  die,  and  yet  I live 
to  tell  the  tale ! ” exclaimed  Carmen,  in  a tone  of  intense  sadness. 
“ But  ” — fiercely — “ I have  taken  a terrible  revenge.  With  my  own 
hand  have  I slain  more  than  a hundred  European  Spaniards,  and  I 
have  sworn  to  slay  as  many  as  there  were  hairs  on  my  mother’s 
head.  . . . But  enough  of  this  ! The  night  is  upon  us.  It  is  time 
to  make  ready.  When  the  zambo  comes  in,  I shall  seize  him  by 
the  throat  and  threaten  him  with  my  dagger.  While  I hold  him 
you  must  stuff  this  cloth  into  his  mouth,  take  off  his  shirt  and  trou- 
sers—he  has  no  other  garments — and  put  them  on  over  your  own. 
That  done,  we  will  bind  him  with  this  cord,  and  lock  him  in  with 
his  own  key.  Are  you  ready  ? ” 

“ I am  ready.” 

Carmen  knocked  loudly  at  the  door. 

Two  minutes  later  the  door  opens,  and  as  the  zambo  closes  it 
behind  him,  Carmen  seizes  him  by  the  throat  and  pushes  him  against 
the  wall. 

“ A word,  a whisper,  and  you  are  a dead  man ! ” he  hisses, 
sternly,  at  the  same  time  drawing  his  dagger.  “ Open  your  mouth, 
or,  per  Dios — The  cloth,  senor.  Now,  off  with  your  shiit  and 
trousers.” 

The  turnkey  obeys  without  the  least  attempt  at  resistance.  The 
shaking  of  his  limbs  as  I help  him  to  undress  shows  that  he  is  half 
frightened  to  death. 

Then  Carmen,  still  gripping  the  man’s  throat  and  threatening 
him  with  his  dagger,  makes  him  lie  down,  and  I bind  his  arms  with 
the  cord. 


OUT  OF  THE  LIONS  MOUTH.  6$ 

That  done,  I slip  the  man’s  trousers  and  shirt  over  my  own,  don 
his  sombrero,  and  take  his  key. 

“ So  far,  well,”  says  Carmen,  “if  we  only  get  safely  through  the 
patio  and  pass  the  guard  ! Put  the  sombrero  over  your  face,  imi- 
tate the  zambo’s  shuffling  gait,  and  walk  carelessly  by  my  side,  as 
if  you  were  conducting  me  to  the  gate  and  a short  way  down  the 
street.  Have  you  your  dagger  ? Good  ! Open  the  door  and  let 
us  go  forth.  One  word  more  ! If  it  comes  to  a fight^back  to  back. 
Try  to  grasp  the  muskets  with  your  left  and  stab  with  your  right- 
upward  ! ” 


CHAPTER  XL 
OUT  OF  THE  LION’S  MOUTH. 

As  the  short  sunset  of  the  tropics  had  now  merged  into  com- 
plete darkness,  we  crossed  the  patio  without  being  noticed  ; but 
near  the  gateway  several  soldiers  of  the  guard  were  seated  round  a 
small  table,  playing  at  cards  by  the  light  of  a flickering  lamp. 

“ Hello ! Who  goes  there  ? ” said  one  of  them,  looking  up. 
“Pablo,  the  turnkey,  and  a friar!  Won’t  you  take  a hand,  Pablo? 
You  won  a real  from  me  last  night ; I want  my  revenge.” 

“ He  is  going  with  me  as  far  as  the  plaza.  It  is  dark,  and  I am 
very  near-sighted,”  put  in  Carmen,  with  ready  presence  of  mind, 
“ He  will  be  back  in  a few  minutes,  and  then  he  will  give  you  your 
revenge,  won’t  you,  Pablo?  ” 

“ Si,  padre con  mucho gusto,”  I answered,  mimicking  the  deep 
gutteral  of  the  zambo. 

“ Good  ! I shall  expect  you  in  a few  minutes,”  said  the  soldier. 
Buene  noche,  padre  ! ” 

“Good-night,  my  son.” 

“ Now  for  the  sentry,”  murmured  Carmen  ; “ luckily  we  have  the 
password,  otherwise  it  might  be  awkward.” 

“ We  must  try  to  slip  past  him.” 

But  it  was  not  to  be.  As  we  step  through  the  gateway  into  the 
street,  the  man  turns  right  about  face  and  we  are  seen. 

“ Halte  / Quien  vivef  ” he  cried. 

“ Friends.” 

“ Advance,  friends,  and  give  the  countersign.” 


66 


MR.  FOR  TESCUE. 


As  you  see,  I am  a friar.  I have  been  shriving  a condemned 
prisoner.  You  surely  do  not  expeet  me  to  give  the  countersign  ! " 
said  Carmen,  going  close  up  to  him. 

“ Certainly  not,  padre . But  who  is  that  with  you  ? ” 

“ Pablo,  the  turnkey.” 

“ Advance  and  give  the  countersign,  Pablo.” 

“ Baylen.” 


“Wrong;  it  has  been  changed  within  the  last  ten  minutes 
You  must  go  back  and  get  it,  friend  Pablo.” 

It  is  not  worth  the  trouble.  He  is  only  seeing  me  to  the  end 
of  the  street,  pleaded  Carmen. 


I shall  not  let  him  go  another  step  without  the  countersign,” 
returned  the  sentry,  doggedly.  “I  am  not  sure  that  I ought  to 
let  you  go  either,  father.  He  has  only  to  ask—” 

A sudden  movement  of  Carmen’s  arm,  a gleam  of  steel  in  the 
darkness,  the  soldier’s  musket  falls  from  his  grasp,  and  with  a deep 
groan  he  sinks  heavily  on  the  ground. 

Quick,  senor,  or  we  shall  be  taken  ! Round  the  corner ! We 
must  not  run  ; that  would  attract  attention.  A sharp  walk.  Good  ! 
Keep  close  to  the  wall.  Two  minutes  more  and  we  shall  be  safe. 
A narrow  escape  ! If  the  sentry  had  made  you  go  back  or  called 
the  guard,  all  would  have  been  lost.”  / 

“ How  was  it  ? Did  you  stab  him  ? ” 

To  the  heart.  He  has  mounted  guard  for  the  last  time.  So 
much  the  better,  It  is  an  enemy  and  a Spaniard  the  less.” 

, . tV1  the  same>  Senor  Carmen,  I would  rather  kill  my  enemies  in 
fair  fight  than  in  cold  blood.” 

“I  also  ; but  there  are  occasions.  As  likely  as  not  this  soldier 
would  have  been  in  the  firing  party  told  off  to  shoot' you  to-mor- 
row  morning.  There  would  not  have  been  much  fair  fight  in  that. 
And  had  I not  killed  him,  we  should  both  have  been  tried  by  drum- 
head court-martial,  and  shot  or  strangled  to-night.  This  wav 
Now,  I defy  them  to  catch  us.” 


As  he  spoke,  Carmen  plunged  into  a heap  of  ruins  by  the  way- 
side,  with  the  intricacies  of  which,  despite  the  darkness,  he  appeared 
to  be  quite  familiar. 

, Nobody  will  disturb  us  here,”  he  said  at  length,  pausing  under 
the  shadow  of  a broken  wall.  “ These  are  the  ruins  of  the  Church 
of  Alta  Gracia,  which,  in  its  fall  during  the  great  earthquake,  killed 
several  hundred  worshipers.  People  say  they  are  haunted;  after 


OUT  OF  THE  LION’S  MOUTH. 


67 


dark  nobody  will  come  near  them.  But  we  must  not  stay  many 
minutes.  Take  off  the  zambo’s  shirt  and  trousers,  and  put  on 
your  shoes  and  stockings — there  they  are — and  I shall  doff  my  cloak 
of  religion.” 

“ What  next?” 

« We  must  make  off  with  all  speed  and  by  devious  ways— though 
I think  we  have  quite  thrown  our  pursuers  off  the  scent— to  a house 
in  the  outskirts  belonging  to  a friend  of  the  cause,  where  we  shall 
find  horses,  and  start  for  the  llanos  before  the  moon  rises  and  the 
hue  and  cry  can  be  raised.” 

“ What  is  the  journey  ? ” 

“That  depends  on  circumstances.  Four  or  five  days,  perhaps. 
Vamanos!  Time  presses.” 

We  left  the  ruins  at  the  side  opposite  to  that  at  which  we  had 
entered  them,  and  after  traversing  several  by-streets  and  narrow 
lanes  reached  the  open  country,  and  walked  on  rapidly  till  we  came 
to  a lonesome  house  in  a large  garden. 

Carmen  went  up  to  the  door,  whistled  softly,  and  knocked 
thrice. 

“ Who  is  there  ? ” asked  a voice  from  within. 

“Salvador.” 

On  this  the  gate  of  the  patio , wide  enough  to  admit  a man  on 
horseback,  was  thrown  open,  and  the  next  moment  I was  in  the 
arms  of  Senor  Carera. 

“ Out  of  the  lion’s  mouth  ! ” he  exclaimed,  as  he  kissed  me  on 
both  cheeks.  “ I was  dying  of  anxiety.  But,  thank  Heaven  and 
the  Holy  Virgin,  you  are  safe.” 

“ I have  also  to  thank  you  and  Senor  Carmen ; and  I do  thank 
you  with  all  my  heart.’ 

“Say  no  more.  We  could  not  have  done  less.  You  were  our 
guest.  You  rendered  us  a great  service.  Had  we  let  you  perish 
without  an  effort  to  save  you,  we  should  have  been  eternally  dis- 
graced. But  come  in  and  refresh  yourselves.  Your  stay  here  must 
be  brief,  and  we  can  talk  while  we  eat.” 

As  we  sat  at  table,  Carmen  told  the  story  of  my  rescue. 

“ It  was  well  done,”  said  our  host,  thoughtfully,  “ very  well  done. 
Yet  I regret  you  had  to  kill  the  sentry.  But  for  that  you  might  have 
had  a little  sleep,  and  started  after  midnight.  As  it  is,  you  must  set 
off  forthwith  and  get  well  on  the  road  before  the  news  of  the  escape 
gets  noised  abroad.  And  everything  is  ready.  All  your  things  are 


68 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


here,  Senor  Fortescue.  You  can  select  what  you  want  for  the  jour- 
ney and  leave  the  rest  in  my  charge.” 

“ All  my  things  here  1 How  did  you  manage  that,  Senor  Carera  ? ” 

‘‘By  sending  a man,  whom  I could  trust,  in  the  character  of  a 
messenger  from  the  prison  with  a note  to  the  posadero,  as  from  you, 
asking  him  to  deliver  your  baggage  and  receipt  your  bill.” 

“ That  was  very  good  of  you,  Senor  Carera.  A thousand  thanks. 
How  much — ” 

“ How  much  ! That  is  my  affair.  You  are  my  guest,  remem- 
ber. Your  baggage  is  in  the  next  room,  and  while  you  make  your 
preparations,  I will  see  to  the  saddling  of  the  horses.” 

A very  few  minutes  sufficed  to  put  on  my  riding-boots,  get  my 
pistols,  and  make  up  my  scanty  kit.  When  I went  outside,  the 
horses  were  waiting  in  the  patio,  each  of  them  held  by  a black 
groom.  Everything  was  in  order.  A cobija  was  strapped  behind 
either  saddle,  both  of  which  were  furnished  with  holsters  and  bags. 

“ I have  had  some  tasajo  (dried  beef)  put  in  the  saddle-bags,  as 
much  as  will  keep  you  going  three  or  four  days,”  said  Senor  Carera. 
“You  won’t  find  many  hotels  on  the  road.  And  you  will  want  a 
sword,  Mr.  Fortescue.  Do  me  the  favor  to  accept  this  as  a souvenir 
of  our  friendship.  It  is  a fine  Toledo  blade,  with  a history.  An 
ancestor  of  mine  wore  it  at  the  battle  of  Lepanto.  It  may  bend  but 
will  never  break,  and  has  an  edge  like  a razor.  I give  it  you  to  be 
used  against  my  country’s  enemies,  and  I am  sure  you  will  never 
draw  it  without  cause,  nor  sheathe  it  without  honor.” 

I thanked  my  host  warmly  for  his  timely  gift,  and,  as  I buckled 
the  historic  weapon  to  my  side,  glanced  at  the  horse  which  he  had 
p aced  at  my  disposal.  It  was  a beautiful  flea-bitten  gray,  with  a 
small,  fiery  head,  arched  neck,  sloping  shoulders,  deep  chest,  power- 
U we^“bent  hocks,  and  “clean,”  shapely  legs — a very 

model  of  a horse,  and,  as  it  seemed,  in  perfect  condition. 

“Ah,  you  may  look  at  Pizarro  as  long  as  you  like,  Senor  Fortes- 
cue and  he  is  well  worth  looking  at ; but  you  will  never  tire  him,” 
SaiCI< S.arera”  “ What  wi>l  you  do  if  you  meet  the  patrol,  Salvador?  ” 

Evade  them  if  we  can,  charge  them  if  we  can  not.” 

“ By  all  means  the  former,  if  possible,  and  then  you  may  not  be 
pursued.  And  now,  senor,  I trust  you  will  not  hold  me  wanting  in 
hospitality  if  I urge  you  to  mount ; but  your  lives  are  in  jeonardy, 
and  there  may  be  death  in  delay.  Put  out  the  lights,  men,  and  open 
the  gates.  Adios,  Senor  Fortescue!  Adios,  my  dear  Salvador. 


OUT  OF  THE  LION'S  MOUTH  69 

We  shall  meet  again  in  happier  times.  God  guard  you,  and  bring 
you  safe  to  your  journey’s  end.” 

And  then  we  rode  forth  into  the  night. 

“ We  had  better  take  to  the  open  country  at  once,  and  strike  the 
road  about  a few  miles  farther  on,  It  is  rather  risky,  for  we  shall 
have  to  get  over  several  rifts  made  by  the  earthquake  and  cross  a 
stream  with  high  banks.  But  if  we  take  to  the  road  straightway,  we 
are  almost  sure  to  meet  a patrol.  We  may  meet  one  in  any  case; 
but  the  farther  from  the  city  the  encounter  takes  place,  the  greater 
will  be  our  chance  of  getting  through.” 

“ You  know  best.  Lead  on,  and  I will  follow.  Are  these  rifts 
you  speak  of,  wide  ? ” 

“ They  are  easily  jumpable  by  daylight ; but  how  we  shall  do 
them  in  the  dark,  I don’t  know.  However,  these  horses  are  as  nim- 
ble as  cats,  and  almost  as  keen-sighted.  I think,  if  we  leave  it  to 
them,  they  will  carry  us  safely  over.  The  sky  is  a little  clearer,  too, 
and  that  will  count  in  our  favor.  This  way  ! ” 

We  sped  on  as  swiftly  and  silently  as  the  specter  horseman  of  the 
story,  for  Venezuelan  horses  being  unshod  and  their  favorite  pace  a 
gliding  run  (much  less  fatiguing  for  horse  and  rider  than  the  high 
trot  of  Europe)  they  move  as  noiselessly  over  grass  as  a man  in 
slippers. 

“ Look  out ! ” cried  Carmen,  reining  in  his  horse.  “ We  are  not 
far  from  the  first  grip.  Don’t  you  see  something  like  a black  streak 
running  across  the  grass  ? That  is  it.” 

“ How  wide,  do  you  suppose  ? ” 

“ Eight  or  ten  feet.  Don’t  try  to  guide  your  horse.  He  won’t 
refuse.  Let  him  have  his  head  and  take  it  in  his  own  way.  Go 
first ; my  horse  likes  a lead.” 

Pizarro  went  to  the  edge  of  the  rift,  stretched  out  his  head  as  if 
to  measure  the  distance,  and  then,  springing  over  as  lightly  as  a deer, 
landed  safely  on  the  other  side.  The  next  moment  Carmen  was  with 
me.  After  two  or  three  more  grips  (all  of  unknown  depth,  and  one 
smelling  strongly  of  sulphur)  had  been  surmounted  in  the  same  way, 
we  came  to  the  stream.  The  bank  was  so  steep  and  slippery  that 
the  horses  had  to  slide  down  it  on  their  haunches  (after  the  manner 
of  South  American  horses).  But  having  got  in,  we  had  to  get  out. 
This  proved  no  easy  task,  and  it  was  only  after  we  had  floundered 
in  the  brook  for  twenty  minutes  or  more,  that  Carmen  found  a 
place  where  he  thought  it  might  be  possible  to  make  our  exit.  And 


70 


MR,  FORTE SCUE \ 


such  a place  ! We  were  forced  to  dismount,  climb  up  almost  on  our 
hands  and  knees,  and  let  the  horses  scramble  after  us  as  they  best 
could. 

“ That  is  the  last  of  our  difficulties/'  said  Carmen,  as  we  got 
into  our  saddles.  “ In  ten  minutes  we  strike  the  road,  and  then  we 
shall  have  a free  course  for  several  hours/' 

“ How  about  the  patrols  ? Do  you  think  we  have  given  them 
the  slip  ? ” 

“ I do.  They  don’t  often  come  as  far  as  this/' 

We  reached  the  road  at  a point  where  it  was  level  with  the 
fields;  and  a few  miles  farther  on  entered  a defile,  bounded  on  the 
left  by  a deep  ravine,  on  the  right  by  a rocky  height. 

And  then  there  occurred  a startling  phenomenon.  As  the  moon 
rose  above  the  Silla  of  Caracas,  the  entire  savanna  below  us  seemed 
to  take  fire,  streams  as  of  lava  began  to  run  up  (not  down)  the  sides 
of  the  hills,  throwing  a lurid  glare  over  the  sleeping  city,  and  bring- 
ing into  strong  relief  the  rugged  mountains  which  walled  in  the  plain. 
“ Good  heavens,  what  is  that  ! ” I exclaimed. 

“ It  is  the  time  of  drought,  and  the  peons  are  firing  the  grass  to 
improve  the  land,”  said  Carmen.  “ I wish  they  had  not  done  it  just 
now,  though.  However,  it  is,  perhaps,  quite  as  well.  If  the  light 
makes  us  more  visible  to  others,  it  also  makes  others  more  visible  to 
us.  Hark ! What  is  that  ? Did  you  not  hear  something  ? " 

" I did.  The  neighing  of  a horse.  Halt ! Let  us  listen/' 

“ The  neighing  of  a horse  and  something  more.” 

“ Men’s  voices  and  the  rattle  of  accoutrements.  The  patrol, 
after  all.  What  shall  we  do  ? To  turn  back  would  be  fatal.  The 
ravine  is  too  deep  to  descend.  Climbing  those  rocks  is  out  of  the 
question.  There  is  but  one  alternative — we  must  charge  right 
through  them.” 

“ How  many  men  does  a patrol  generally  consist  of  ? ” 

“ Sometimes  two,  sometimes  four.” 

“ May  it  not  be  a squadron  on  the  march  ? ” 

“ It  may.  No  matter.  We  must  charge  them,  all  the  same. 
Better  die  sword  in  hand  than  be  garroted  on  the  plaza.  We  have 
one  great  advantage.  We  shall  take  these  fellows  by  surprise. 
Let  us  wait  here  in  the  shade,  and  the  moment  they  round  that  cor- 
ner, go  at  them,  full  gallop/ 

The  words  were  scarcely  spoken,  when  two  dragoons  came  il 
sight,  then  two  more. 


OUT  OF  THE  LION'S  MOUTH.  Jl 

“ Four ! ” murmured  Carmen.  “ The  odds  are  not  too  great. 
We  shall  do  it.  Are  you  ready  ? Now  ! ” 

The  dragoons,  surprised  by  our  sudden  appearance,  pulled  up 
and  stood  stock-still,  as  if  doubtful  whether  our  intentions  were  hos- 
tile or  friendly  ; and  we  were  at  them  almost  before  they  had  drawn 
their  swords. 

As  I charged  the  foremost  Spaniard,  his  horse  swerved  from  the 
road,  and  rolled  with  his  rider  into  the  ravine.  The  second,  profit- 
ing by  his  comrade’s  disaster,  gave  us  the  slip  and  galloped  toward 
Caracas.  This  left  us  face  to  face  with  the  other  two,  and  in  little 
more  than  as  many  minutes  I had  run  my  man  through,  and  Car- 
men had  hurled  his  to  the  ground  with  a cleft  skull. 

“ I thought  we  should  do  it,”  he  said  as  he  sheathed  his  sword. 

“ But  before  we  ride  on  let  us  see  who  the  fellows  are,  for,  ’pon  my 
soul,  they  have  not  the  looks  of  a patrol  from  Caracas.” 

As  he  spoke,  Carmen  dismounted  and  closely  examined  the 
prostrate  men’s  facings. 

“ Caramba  ! They  belong  to  the  regiment  of  Irun,”  «, 

**  j remember  them.  They  were  in  Murillo  s corp  d armie  at 
Vittoria.” 

« I wish  they  were  at  Vittoria  now.  Their  headquarters  are  at 
La  Victoria  ! Worse  luck  ! ” 

“ Why  ? ” 

“ Because  there  may  be  more  of  them.  You  suggested  just  now 
the  possibility  of  a squadron.  How  if  we  meet  a regiment  ? 

“ We  should  be  in  rather  a bad  scrape. 

“ We  are  in  a bad  scrape,  amigo  mio.  Unless  I am  greatly 
mistaken  the  regiment  of  Irun,  or,  at  any  rate,  a squadron  of  it  is 
on  the  march  hitherward.  If  they  started  at  sunrise  and  rested 
during  the  heat  of  the  day,  this  is  about  the  time  the  advance-guard 
would  be  here.  Having  no  enemy  to  fear  in  these  parts,  they 
would  naturally  break  up  into  small  detachments  ; there  has  been 
no  rain  for  weeks,  and  the  dust  raised  by  a large  body  of  horsemen 
is  simply  stifling.  However,  we  may  as  well  go  forward  to  certain 
death  as  go  back  to  it.  Besides,  I hate  going  back  in  any  circum- 
stances. And  we  have  just  one  chance.  We  must  hurry  on  and 
ride  for  our  lives.” 

“ I don’t  quite  see  that.  We  shall  meet  them  all  the 
sooner.” 

Carmen  made  some  reply  which  I failed  to  catch,  and  as  the 


72 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


way  was  rough  and  Pizarro  required  all  my  attention,  I did  not  re- 
peat  the  question. 

We  passed  rapidly  up  the  brow,  and  when  we  reached  more 
even  ground,  put  our  horses  to  the  gallop  and  went  on,  up  hill  and 
down  dale,  until  Carmen,  uttering  an  exclamation  pulled  his  horse 
into  a walk. 

“ 1 ^ink  we  can  get  down  here,”  he  said. 

We  had  reached  a place  where,  although  the  mountain  to  our 
right  was  still  precipitous,  the  ravine  seemed  narrower  and  the 
sides  less  steep. 

“ I think  we  can,”  repeated  Carmen.  “ At  any  rate,  we  must 
try. 

And  with  that  he  dismounted,  and  leading  his  horse  to  the  brink 
of  the  ravine,  incontinently  disappeared. 

“ Come  on!  It  will  do!”  he  cried,  dragging  his  horse  after 
him. 

I followed  with  Pizarro,  who  missing  his  footing  landed  on  his 
head.  As  for  myself,  I rolled  from  top  to  bottom,  the  descent  be- 
mg  much  steeper  than  I had  expected. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

BETWEEN  TWO  FIRES. 

The  ravine  was  filled  with  shrubs  and  trees,  through  which  we 
partly  forced,  partly  threaded  our  way,  until  we  reached  a spot 
where  we  were  invisible  from  the  road. 

Now  off  with  your  cobija  and  throw  it  oyer  your  horse’s  head,” 
said  Carmen.  “ If  they  don’t  hear  they  won’t  neigh,  and  a single 
neigh  might  be  our  ruin.” 

You  mean  to  stay  here  until  the  troops  have  gone  past  ? ” 

Exactly,  I knew  there  was  a good  hiding-place  hereabout, 
and  that  if  we  reached  it  before  the  troops  came  up  we  should  be 
safe.  If  there  be  any  more  of  them  they  will  pass  us  in  a few 
minutes.  Now,  if  you  will  hitch  Pizarro  to  that  tree— oh,  you  have 
done  so  already.  Good  ! Well,  let  us  return  to  the  road  and  watch. 
We  can  hide  in  the  grass,  or  behind  the  bushes.” 

We  returned  accordingly,  and  choosing  a place  where  we  could 


BETWEEN  TWO  FIRES. 


73 


see  without  being  seen,  we  lay  down  and  listened,  exchanging  now 
and  then  a whispered  remark. 

“ Hist ! ” said  Carmen,  presently,  putting  his  ear  to  the  ground. 
He  had  been  so  long  on  the  war-path  and  lived  so  much  in  the  open 
air,  that  his  senses  were  almost  as  acute  as  those  of  a wild  animal 

“ They  are  coming ! ” 

Soon  the  hum  of  voices,  the  neighing  of  steeds,  and  the  clang  of 
steel  fell  on  my  ear,  and  peering  between  the  branches  I could  see 
a group  of  shadows  moving  toward  us.  Then  the  shadows,  taking 
form  and  substance,  became  six  horsemen.  They  passed  within  a 
few  feet  of  our  hiding-place.  We  heard  their  talk,  saw  their  faces 
in  the  moonlight,  and  Carmen  whispered  that  he  could  distinguish 
the  facings  of  their  uniforms. 

“ It  is  as  I feared,”  he  muttered,  “ the  entire  regiment  of  Irun, 
shifting  their  quarters  to  Caracas.  We  are  prisoners  here  for  an 
hour  or  two.  Well,  it  is  perhaps  better  to  have  them  behind  than 
before  us.” 

“ What  will  happen  when  they  find  the  bodies  of  the  two 
troopers  ? ” 

“ That  is  precisely  the  question  I am  asking  myself.  But  not 
having  met  us  they  will  naturally  conclude  that  we  have  gone  on 
toward  Caracas.” 

“ Unless  they  are  differently  informed  by  the  man  who  escaped 
us.” 

“ I don’t  think  he  would  be  in  any  hurry  to  turn  back.  He  went 
off  at  a devil  of  a pace.” 

“He  might  turn  back  for  all  that,  when  he  recovered  from  his 
scare.  He  could  not  help  seeing  that  we  were  only  two,  and  if  he 
informs  the  others  they  will  know  of  a surety  that  we  are  hiding  in 
the  ravine.” 

“ And  then  there  would  be  a hunt.  However,  at  the  speed  they 
are  riding  it  will  take  them  an  hour  or  more  to  reach  the  scene  of 
our  skirmish,  and  then  there  is  coming  back.  Everything  depends 
on  how  soon  the  last  of  them  go  by.  If  we  have  only  a few  minutes 
start  they  will  never  overtake  us,  and  once  on  the  other  side  of  Los 
Teycos  we  shall  be  safe  both  from  discovery  and  pursuit.  European 
cavalry  are  of  no  use  in  a Venezuelan  forest;  and  I don  t think 
these  Irun  fellows  have  any  blood-hounds.” 

“ Blood-hounds ! You  surely  don’t  mean  to  say  that  the  Span- 
iards use  blood-hounds  ? ” 


74 


MR . FOR  RESCUE. 


“ I mean  nothing  else.  General  Griscelli,  who  holds  the  chief 
command  in  the  district  of  San  Felipe,  keeps  a pack  of  blood- 
hounds, which  he  got  from  Cuba.  But,  though  a Spanish  general, 
Griscelli  is  not  a Spaniard  born.  He  is  either  a Corsican  or  an  Ital- 
ian. I believe  he  was  originally  in  the  French  army,  and  when  Du- 
pont surrendered  at  Baylen  he  went  over  to  the  other  side,  and  ac- 
cepted a commission  from  the  King  of  Spain.” 

“Not  a very  good  record,  that.” 

“ And  he  is  not  a good  man.  He  outvies  even  the  Spaniards  in 
cruelty.  A very  able  general,  though.  He  has  given  us  a deal  of 
trouble.  Down  with  your  head  ! Here  comes  some  more.” 

A whole  troop  this  time.  They  pass  in  a cloud  of  dust.  After 
a short  interval  another  detachment  sweeps  by ; then  another  and 
another. 

“Gracias  a Dios!  they  are  putting  on  more  speed.  At  this 
rate  we  shall  soon  be  at  liberty.  But,  caramba , how  they  might 
have  been  trapped,  Sefior  Fortescue!  A few  men  on  that  height 
hurling  down  rocks,  the  defile  lined  with  sharp-shooters,  half  a hun- 
dred of  Mejia’s  llaneros  to  cut  off  their  retreat,  and  the  regiment  of 
Irun  could  be  destroyed  to  a man.” 

“ Or  taken  prisoners.” 

“ I don’t  think  there  would  be  many  prisoners,”  said  Carmen, 
grimly.  “ These  must  almost  be  the  last,  I think — they  are.  See  ! 
Here  come  the  tag-rag  and  bobtail.” 

The  tag-rag  and  bobtail  consisted  of  a string  of  loaded  mules  with 
their  arrieros , a dozen  women  riding  mules,  and  as  many  men  on  foot. 

“ Let  us  get  out  of  this  hole  while  we  may,  and  before  any  of 
them  come  back.  Once  on  the  road  and  mounted,  we  shall  at  least 
be  able  to  fight ; but  down  here — ” 

“ All  the  same,  this  hole  has  served  our  turn  well.  However,  I 
quite  agree  with  you  that  the  best  thing  we  can  do  is  to  get  out  of 
it  quickly.” 

This  was  more  easily  said  than  done.  It  was  like  climbing  up  a 
precipice.  Pizarro  slipped  back  three  times.  Carmen’s  mare  did 
no  better.  In  the  end  we  had  to  dismount,  fasten  two  lariats  to 
each  saddle,  and  haul  while  the  horses  scrambled.  A little  help 
goes  a long  way  in  such  circumstances. 

All  this  both  made  noise  and  caused  delay,  and  it  was  with  a 
decided  sense  of  relief  that  we  found  ourselves  once  more  in  the 
saddle  and  en  route . 


BETWEEN  TWO  FIRES. 


75 


«We  have  lost  more  time  than  I reckoned  on,”  said  Carmen,  as 
we  galloped  through  the  pass.  “ If  any  of  the  dragoons  had  turned 
back — However,  they  did  not,  and,  as  our  horses  are  both  fresher 
than  theirs  and  carry  less  weight,  they  will  have  no  chance  of  over- 
taking us  if  they  do ; and,  as  the  whole  of  the  regiment  has  gone 
on,  there  is  no  chance  of  meeting  any  more  of  them — Caramba  ! 
Halt ! ” 

“ What  is  it  ? ” I asked,  pulling  up  short. 

“ I spoke  too  soon.  More  are  coming.  Don’t  you  hear  them  ? ” 
“ Yes ; and  I see  shadows  in  the  distance.” 

“ The  shadows  are  soldiers,  and  we  shall  have  to  charge  them 
whether  they  be  few  or  many,  amzgo  mio  ; so  say  your  prayers  and 
draw  your  Toledo.  But  first  let  us  shake  hands,  we  may  never — ” 
“ I am  quite  ready  to  charge  by  your  side,  Carmen  ; but  would 
it  not  be  better,  think  you,  to  try  what  a little  stratagy  will  do  ? ” 

“ With  all  my  heart,  if  you  can  suggest  anything  feasible.  I like 
a fight  immensely— when  the  odds  are  not  too  great— and  I hope  to 
die  fighting.  All  the  same,  I have  no  very  strong  desire  to  die  at 
this  particular  moment.” 

“ Neither  have  I.  So  let  us  go  on  like  peaceable  travelers,  and 
the  chances  are  that  these  men,  taking  for  granted  that  the  others 
have  let  us  pass,  will  not  meddle  with  us.  If  they  do,  we  must 
make  the  best  fight  we  can.” 

“ A happy  thought ! Let  us  act  on  it.  If  they  ask  any  ques- 
tions I will  answer.  Your  English  accent  might  excite  suspicion.” 
The  party  before  us  consisted  of  nine  horsemen,  several  of 
whom  appeared  to  be  officers. 

“Buene  noche , sehores ,”  said  Carmen,  so  soon  as  we  were  with- 
in speaking  distance. 

“ Buene  noche , sehores.  You  have  met  the  troops,  of  course. 
How  far  are  they  ahead  ? ” asked  one  of  the  officers. 

“ The  main  body  are  quite  a league  ahead  by  this  time.  The 
pack-mules  and  arrieros  passed  us  about  fifteen  minutes  ago.” 

“ Gracias ! Who  are  you,  and  whither  may  you  be  wending, 
senores  ? ” 

“ I am  Sancho  Mencar,  at  your  service  sehor  coronel,  a Govern- 
ment messenger,  carrying  dispatches  to  General  Salazar,  at  La 
Victoria.  My  companion  is  Sefior  Tesco,  a merchant,  who  is  jour- 
neying to  the  same  place  on  business.” 

“Good ! you  can  go  on.  You  will  meet  two  troopers  who  are 


76 


MR.  FORTE SCUE. 


bringing  on  a prisoner.  Do  me  the  favor  to  tell  them  to  make 
haste.” 

* Certainly,  sehor  coronel.  Adz  os,  sehores .” 

“ Adzos,  seiiores .” 

And  with  that  we  rode  on  our  respective  ways. 

“Two  troopers  and  prisoner,”  said  Carmen,  thoughtfully.  “So  ; 
there  are  more  of  them,  after  all ! How  many,  I wonder?  If  this  KJ 
prisoner  be  a patriot  we  must  rescue  him,  Sehor  Fortescue.” 

“ With  all  my  heart — if  we  can.”  ^ 

“ Only  two  troopers  ! You  and  I are  a match  for  six.” 

“ Possibly.  But  we  don’t  know  that  the  two  are  not  followed  \ 
by  a score ! There  seems  to  be  no  end  of  them.” 

“ I don’t  think  so.  If  there  were,  the  colonel  would  have  asked  r 
us  to  tell  them  also  to  hurry  up.  But  we  shall  soon  find  out. 
When  we  meet  the  fellows  we  will  speak  them  fair  and  ask  a few  / 
questions.” 

Ten  minutes  later  we  met  them. 

“ Buene  noche , sehores /”  said  Carmen,  riding  forward.  “We  j 
bring  a message  from  the  colonel.  He  bids  you  make  haste.” 

“All  very  fine.  But  how  can  we  make  haste  when  we  are 
hampered  by  this  rascal  ? I should  like  to  blow  his  brains  out.” 

“ This  rascal  ” was  the  prisoner,  a big  powerful  fellow  who 
seemed  to  be  either  a zambo  or  a negro.  His  arms  were  bound  to 
his  side,  and  he  walked  between  the  troopers,  to  whose  saddles  he 
was  fastened  by  two  stout  cords. 

“ Why  don’t  you  blow  his  brains  out  ? ” 

“ Because  we  should  get  into  trouble.  He  is  the  colonel’s  slave, 
and  therefore  valuable  property.  We  have  tried  dragging  him 
along ; but  the  villain  throws  himself  down,  and  might  get  a limb 
broken,  so  all  we  can  do  is  prod  him  occasionally  with  the  points 
of  our  sabers ; but  he  does  not  seem  to  mind  us  in  the  least.  We 
have  tried  swearing ; we  might  as  well  whistle.  Make  haste,  in- 
deed ! ” 

“ A very  hard  case,  I am  sure.  I sympathize  with  you,  se- 
nores.  Is  the  man  a runaway  that  you  have  to  take  such  care  of 
him  ? ” 

“ That  is  just  it.  He  ran  away  and  rambled  for  months  in  the 
forest ; and  if  he  had  not  stolen  back  to  La  Victoria  and  been  be- 
trayed by  a woman,  he  would  never  have  been  caught.  After  that, 
the  colonel  would  not  trust  him  at  large;  but  he  thinks  that  at 


BETWEEN  TWO  FIRES. 

Caracas  he  will  have  him  safe.  And  now,  senores,  with  your  leave 
we  must  go  on.” 

“ Ah  ! You  are  the  last,  I suppose  ? ” 

“We  are  ; curse  it ! The  main  body  must  be  a league  ahead 
by  this  time,  and  we  shall  not  reach  Caracas  for  hours.  Adios /” 

“ Let  us  rescue  the  poor  devil ! ” I whispered  to  Carmen. 

“ By  all  means.  One  moment,  senores  ! I beg  your  pardon,  but 
— now,  Fortescue  ! ” 

And  with  that  we  placed  our  horses  across  the  road,  whipped 
out  our  pistols  and  pointed  them  at  the  troopers’  heads,  to  their 
owners’  unutterable  surprise. 

“We  are  sorry  to  inconvenience  you,  senores,”  said  my  com- 
panion, politely ; “ but  we  are  going  to  release  this  slave,  and  we 
have  need  of  your  horses.  Unbuckle  your  swords,  throw  them  on 
the  ground,  and  dismount.  No  hesitation,  or  you  are  dead  men ! 
Shall  we  treat  them  as  they  proposed  to  treat  the  slave,  Seiior 
Fortescue  ? Blow  out  their  brains  ? It  will  be  safer,  and  save  us  a 
deal  of  trouble.” 

“ No ! That  would  be  murder.  Let  them  go.  They  can  do 
no  harm.  It  is  impossible  for  them  to  overtake  the  others  on 
foot.” 

Meanwhile  the  soldiers,  having  the  fear  of  being  shot  before 
them,  had  dismounted  and  laid  down  their  weapons. 

“ Go  ! ” said  Carmen,  pointing  northward,  and  they  went. 

“Your  name  ? ” (to  the  prisoner  whose  bonds  I was  cutting  with 
my  sword). 

“ Here  they  call  me  Jose.  In  my  own  country  I was  called 
Gahra — ” 

“ Let  it  be  Gahra,  then.  It  is  less  common  than  Jose.  Every 
other  peon  in  the  country  is  called  Jose.  You  are  a native  of 
Africa?  ” 

“ Sz  seizor  T 

“ How  came  you  hither  ? ” 

“ I was  taken  to  Cuba  in  a slave-ship,  brought  to  this  country 
by  General  Salazar,  and  sold  by  him  to  Colonel  Canimo.” 

“You  have  no  great  love  for  the  Spaniards,  I suppose? ” 

Gahra  pointed  to  his  arms  whiph  had  been  chafed  by  the  rope 
till  they  were  raw,  and  showed  us  his  back  which  bore  the  marks 
of  recent  stripes. 

“ Can  you  fight  ? ” 


78 


MR.  FORTE  SCUE. 


“ Against  the  Spaniards  ? Only  give  me  the  chance,  and  you 
shall  see,”  answered  the  negro  in  a voice  of  intense  hate.” 

“ Come  with  us,  and  you  shall  have  many  chances.  Mount  one 
of  those  horses  and  lead  the  other.” 

Gahra  mounted,  and  we  moved  on. 

We  were  now  at  the  beginning  of  a stiff  ascent.  The  road, 
which  though  undulating  had  risen  almost  continuously  since  we 
left  Caracas,  was  bordered  with  richly  colored  flowers  and  shrubs, 
and  bounded  on  either  side  by  deep  forests.  Night  was  made  glori- 
ous by  the  great  tropical  moon,  which  shone  resplendent  under  a 
purple  sky  gilding  the  tree-tops  and  lighting  us  on  our  way.  Owing 
to  the  nature  of  the  ground  we  could  not  see  far  before  us,  but  the 
backward  view,  with  its  woodcrowned  heights,  deep  ravines,  and 
somber  mountains  looming  in  the  distance,  was  fairy-like  and  fan- 
tastic, and  the  higher  we  rose  the  more  extensive  it  became. 

“ Is  this  a long  hill  ? ” I asked  Carmen. 

“Very.  An  affair  of  half  an  hour,  at  least,  at  this  speed;  and 
we  can  not  go  faster,”  he  answered,  as  he  turned  half  round  in  his 
saddle. 

“ Why  are  you  looking  backward  ? ” 

“ To  see  whether  we  are  followed.  We  lost  much  time  in  the 
quebrado , and  we  have  lost  more  since.  Have  you  good  eyes,  Gahra  ? 
Born  Africans  generally  have.” 

“Yes,  sir.  My  name,  Gahia  Dahra,  signifies  Dahra,  the  keen 
sighted ! ” 

“ I am  glad  to  hear  it.  Be  good  enough  to  look  round  occasion- 
ally, and  if  you  see  anything  let  us  know.” 

We  had  nearly  reached  the  summit  of  the  rise  when  the  negro 
uttered  an  exclamation  and  turned  his  horse  completely  round. 

“ What  is  it  ? ” asked  Carmen  and  myself,  following  his  example. 

“I  see  figures  on  the  brow  of  yonder  hill.” 

“ You  see  more  than  I can,  and  I have  not  bad  eyes,  said  Car- 
men, looking  intently.  “ What  are  they  like,  those  figures  ? 

“ That  I can  not  make  out  yet.  They  are  many ; they  move ; 
and  every  minute  they  grow  bigger ! That  is  all  I can  tell.” 

“ It  is  quite  enough.  The  bodies  of  the  two  troopers  have  been 
found,  the  alarm  has  been  given,  and  we  are  pursued.  But  they 
won’t  overtake  us.  They  have  that  hill  to  descend,  this  to  mount ; 
and  our  horses  are  better  than  theirs.” 

“ Are  you  going  far,  senor  ? ” inquired  Gahra. 


BETWEEN  TWO  FIRES. 


79 


“To  the  llanos.” 

“ By  Los  Teycos  ? ” 

“Yes.  We  shall  easily  steal  through  Los  Teycos,  and  I know 
of  a place  in  the  forest  beyond,  where  we  can  hide  during  the  day.” 
“ Pardon  me  for  venturing  to  contradict  you,  senor ; but  I fear 
you  will  not  find  it  very  easy  to  steal  through  Los  Teycos.  For 
three  days  it  has  been  held  by  a company  of  infantry  and  all  the 
outlets  are  strictly  guarded.  No  civilian  unfurnished  with  a safe 
conduct  from  the  captain-general  is  allowed  to  pass.” 

“ Caramba ! We  are  between  two  fires,  it  seems.  Well,  we 
must  make  a dash  for  it.  The  sentries  can  not  stop  us,  and  we  can 
gallop  through  before  they  turn  out  the  guard.” 

“The  horses  will  be  very  tired  by  that  time,  senor,  and  the 
troopers  can  get  fresh  mounts  at  Los  Teycos.  But  I know  a 
way — ” 

“ The  Indian  trail ! Do  you  know  the  Indian  trail  ? ” 

“Yes  sir.  I know  the  Indian  trail,  and  I can  take  you  to  a place 
in  the  forest  where  there  is  grass  and  water  and  game,  and  we 
shall  be  safe  from  pursuit  as  long  as  we  like  to  stay.” 

“ How  far  off  ? ” 

“ About  two  leagues.” 

“ Good.  Lead  on  in  heaven  s name.  You  are  a treasure,  Gahra 
Dahra.  In  rescuing  you  from  those  ruffianly  Spaniards  we  did  our- 
selves, as  well  as  you,  a good  turn.” 

Our  pursuers,  who  numbered  a full  score,  could  now  be  distinctly 
seen,  but  in  a few  minutes  we  lost  sight  of  them.  After  a sharp 
ride  of  half  an  hour,  the  negro  called  a halt. 

“This  is  the  place.  Here  we  turn  off,”  he  said. 

“ Here  ! I see  nothing  but  the  almost  dry  bed  of  a torrent.” 

“ So  much  the  better.  We  shall  make  no  footmarks,”  said 
Carmen.  “ Go  on,  Gahra.  But  first  of  all  turn  that  led  horse 
adrift.  Are  you  sure  this  place  you  speak  of  is  unknown  to  the 
Spaniards  ? ” 

“ Quite.  It  is  known  only  to  a few  wandering  Indians  and  fugi- 
tive slaves.  We  can  stay  here  till  sunrise.  It  is  impossible  to  fol- 
low the  Indian  trail  by  night,  even  with  such  a moon  as  this.” 

After  we  had  partly  ridden,  partly  walked  (for  we  were  several 
times  compelled  to  dismount)  about  a mile  along  the  bed  of  the 
stream,  which  was  hemmed  in  between  impenetrable  walls  of  tall 
trees  and  dense  undergrowth,  Gahra,  who  was  leading,  called  out ; 


g6  MR.  FOR  FESCUE. 

“This  way ! ” and  vanished  into  what  looked  like  a hole,  but  proved 
to  be  a cleft  in  the  bank  so  overhung  by  vegetation  as  to  be  well- 

H^ItwTs^he  entrance  to  a passage  barely  wide  enough  to  admit  a 
horse  and  his  rider,  yet  as  light  as  a star-gemmed  midnight,  for  the 

leafy  vault  above  us  was  radiant  with  fire-flies,  gleaming  1 e lamon 

in  the  dark  hair  of  a fair  woman. 

But  even  with  this  help  it  was  extremely  difficult  to  force  our 
wav  through  the  tangled  undergrowth,  which  we  had  several  times 
to  attack,  fword  in  hand,  and  none  of  us  were  sorry  when  Gahra 

announced  that  we  had  reached  the  end. 

“ For  todos  los  santos  ! But  this  is  fairyland  ! exclaimed  Car- 
men, who  was  just  before  me.  “I  never  saw  anything  so  beau- 

ti£UHe  might  well  say  so.  We  were  on  the  shore  of  a mountain- 
tarn,  into  whose  clear  depths  the  crescent  moon,  looxing  calm  y 
down  saw  its  image  reflected  as  in  a silver  mirror.  Lilies  floated 
on  its  waters,  ferns  and  flowering  shrubs  bent  over  the™;  **  “ 
was  fragrant  with  sweet  smells,  and  all  around  uprose  giant  tree 
with  stems  as  round  and  smooth  as  the  granite  columns  of  a gieat 
cathedral ; and,  as  it  seemed  in  that  dim  religious  light,  high  enoug 

tn  cnnnort  the  the  dome  of  heaven. 

I was  so  lost  in  admiration  of  this  marvelous  scene  that  my 

companions  had  unsaddled  and  were  leading  their  horses  down  t 

the  water  before  I thought  of  dismounting  from  mine. 

Iptrt  from  the  beauty  of  the  spot,  we  could  have  found  none 

more  suitable  for  a bivouac  ! We  were  in  safety  and  ou^horses  .n 

clover,  and,  tethering  them  with  the  lanats  we  She 2 ai 
Cahra  gathered  leaves  and  twigs  and  kindled  a file,  for  the  air  at 
St  was  fresh,  and  we  were  lightly  clad.  We  cooked  our 
Usajo  on  the  embers,  and  after  smoking  the  calumet  of  peace 
rolled  ourselves  in  our  cobijas,  laid  our  heads  on  our  saddles,  an 
slept  the  sleep  of  the  just. 


ON  THE  LLANOS . 


Bi 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

ON  THE  LLANOS. 

Only  a moment  ago  the  land  had  been  folded  in  the  mantle  of 
darkness.  Now,  a flaming  eye  rises  from  the  ground  at  some  im- 
measurable distance,  -like  an  outburst  of  volcanic  fire.  It  grows 
apace,  chasing  away  the  night  and  casting  a ruddy  glow  on,  as  it 
seems,  a vast  and  waveless  sea,  as  still  as  the  painted  ocean  of  the 
poem,  as  silent  as  death,  a sea  Nvithout  ships  and  without  life,  mourn- 
ful and  illimitable,  and  as  awe-inspiring  and  impressive  as  the  Andes 
or  the  Alps. 

So  complete  is  the  illusion  that  did  I not  know  we  were  on  the 
verge  of  the  llanos  I should  be  tempted  to  believe  that  some  super- 
natural agency  had  transported  us  while  we  slept  to  the  coasts  of 
the  Carribean  Sea  or  the  yet  more  distant  shores  of  the  Pacific 
Ocean. 

Six  days  are  gone  by  since  we  left  our  bivouac  by  the  mountain- 
tarn  : three  we  have  wandered  in  the  woods  under  the  guidance  of 
Gahra,  three  sought  Mejia  and  his  guerillas,  who,  being  always  on 
the  move,  are  hard  to  find.  Last  night  we  reached  the  range  of 
hills  which  form,  as  it  were,  the  northern  coast-line  of  the  vast  series 
of  savannas  which  stretch  from  the  tropics  to  the  Straits  of  Magel- 
lan ; and  it  is  now  a question  whether  we  shall  descend  to  the 
llanos  or  continue  our  search  in  the  sierra. 

“ It  was  there  I left  him,”  said  Carmen,  pointing  to  a quebrada 
some  ten  miles  away. 

“ Where  we  were  yesterday  ? ” 

“ Yes ; and  he  said  he  would  be  either  there  or  hereabout  when 
I returned,  and  I am  quite  up  to  time.  But  Mejia  takes  sudden  re- 
solves sometimes.  He  may  have  gone  to  beat  up  Griscelli’s  quar- 
ters at  San  Felipe,  or  be  making  a dash  across  the  llanos  in  the 
hope  of  surprising  the  fortified  post  of  Tres  Cruces.” 

“ What  shall  we  do  then ; wait  here  until  he  comes  back  ? ” 

“ Or  ride  out  on  the  llanos  in  the  direction  of  Tres  Cruces.  If  we 
don’t  meet  Mejia  and  his  people  we  may  hear  something  of  them.” 

“ I am  for  the  llanos.” 

“ Very  well.  We  will  go  thither.  But  we  shall  have  to  be  very 
circumspect.  There  are  loyalist  as  well  as  patriot  guerillas  roaming 
about.  They  say  that  Morales  has  collected  a force  of  three  or  four 
6 


, MR.  FORTE  SCUE. 


82 

thousand,  mostly  Indios,  and  they  are  all  so  much  alike  that  unless 
you  get  pretty  close  it  is  impossible  to  distinguish  patriots  from 
loyalists.” 

“ Well,  there  is  room  to  run  if  we  can  not  fight.” 

“ Oh,  plenty  of  room,”  laughed  Carmen.  “ But  as  for  fighting- 
loyalist  guerillas  are  not  quite  the  bravest  of  the  brave,  yet  I don  t 
think  we  three  are  quite  a match  for  fifty  of  them,  and  we  are  not 
likely  to  meet  fewer,  if  we  meet  any.  But  let  us  adventure  by  all 
means.  Our  horses  are  fresh,  and  we  can  either  return  to  the  sierra 
or  spend  the  flight  on  the  llanos,  as  may  be  most  expedient. 

Ten  minutes  later  we  were  mounted,  and  an  hour’s  easy  riding 
brought  us  to  the  plain.  It  was  as  pathless  as  the  ocean,  yet  Car- 
men, guided  by  the  sun,  went  on  as  confidently  as  if  he  had  been 
following  a beaten  track.  The  grass  was  brown  and  the  soil  yellow ; 
particles  of  yellow  dust  floated  in  the  air ; the  few  trees  we  passed 
were  covered  with  it,  and  we  and  our  horses  were  soon  in  the  like 
condition.  Nothing  altered  as  we  advanced ; sky  and  earth  were 
ever  the  same  ; the  only  thing  that  moved  was  a cloud,  sailing  slowly 
between  us  and  the  sun,  and  when  Carmen  called  a halt  on  the  bank 
of  a nearly  dried-up  stream,  it  required  an  effort  to  realize  that  since 
we  left  our  bivouac  in  the  hills  we  had  ridden  twenty  miles  in  a di- 
rect line.  Hard  by  was  a deserted  hatto , or  cattle-keeper’s  hut, 
where  we  rested  while  our  horses  grazed. 

« No  sign  of  Mejia  yet,”  observed  Carmen,  as  he  lighted  his  cigar 
with  a burning-glass.  “ Shall  we  go  on  toward  Tres  Cruces,  or  re- 
turn to  our  old  camping-ground  in  the  hills  ? ” 

44  I am  for  going  on.” 

44  So  am  I.  But  we  must  keep  a sharp  lookout.  We  shall  be 
on  dangerous  ground  after  we  have  crossed  the  Tio.” 

44  Where  is  the  Tio  ? ” 

44  There  ! ” (pointing  to  the  attenuated  stream  near  us). 

44  That ! I thought  the  Tio  was  a river,” 

44  So  it  is,  and  a big  one  in  the  rainy  season,  as  you  may  have  an 
opportunity  of  seeing.  I wish  we  could  hear  something  of  Mejia. 
But  there  is  nobody  of  whom  we  can  inquire.  The  country  is  de- 
serted ; the  herdsmen  have  all  gone  south,  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of 
guerillas  and  brigands,  all  of  whom  look  on  cattle  as  common  prop- 
erty.” 

44  Somebody  comes ! ” said  Gahra,  who  was  always  on  *he  look- 


out. 


01 V THE  LLANOS. 


83 

u How  many  ? ” exclaimed  Carmen,  springing  to  his  feet. 

“ Only  one.” 

“ Keep  out  of  sight  till  he  draws  near,  else  he  may  sheer  off ; 
and  I should  like  to  have  speech  of  him.  He  may  be  able  to  tell  us 
something.” 

The  stranger  came  unconcernedly  on,  and  as  he  stopped  in  the 
middle  of  the  river  to  let  his  horse  drink,  we  had  a good  look  at 
him.  He  was  well  mounted,  carried  a long  spear  and  a macheto  (a 
broad,  sword-like  knife,  equally  useful  for  slitting  windpipes  and 
felling  trees),  and  wore  a broad-brimmed  hat,  shirt,  trousers,  and  a 
pair  of  spurs  (strapped  to  his  naked  feet). 

As  he  resumed  his  journey  across  the  river,  we  all  stepped  out  of 
the  hatto  and  gave  him  the  traditional  greeting,  “ Buenas  diasy 
senor .” 

The  man,  looking  up  in  alarm,  showed  a decided  disposition  to 
make  off,  but  Carmen  spoke  him  kindly,  offered  him  a cigar,  and 
said  that  all  we  wanted  was  a little  information.  We  were  peace- 
ful travelers,  and  would  much  like  to  know  whether  the  country  be- 
yond the  Tio  was  free  from  guerillas. 

The  stranger  eyed  us  suspiciously,  and  then,  after  a moment’s 
hesitation,  said  he  had  heard  that  Mejia  was  “ on  the  war-path.” 

“ Where  ? ” asked  Carmen. 

“ They  say  he  was  at  Tres  Cruces  three  days  ago ; and  there 
has  been  fighting.” 

“ And  are  any  of  Morale’s  people  also  on  the  war-path  ? ” 

“ That  is  more  than  I can  tell  you,  senores.  It  is  very  likely ; 
but  as  you  are  peaceful  travelers,  I am  sure  no  one  will  molest  you. 
Adios , senores .” 

And  with  that  the  man  gave  his  horse  a sudden  dig  with  his 
spurs,  and  went  off  at  a gallop. 

“ What  a discourteous  beggar  he  is ! ” exclaimed  Carmen,  an- 
grily. “ If  it  would  not  take  too  much  out  of  my  mare  I would  ride 
after  him  and  give  him  a lesson  in  politeness.” 

“ I don’t  think  he  was  intentionally  uncivil.  He  seemed 
afraid.” 

“ Evidently.  He  did  not  know  what  we  were,  and  feared  to 
commit  himself.  However,  we  have  learned  something.  We  are 
on  Mejia’s  track.  He  was  at  Tres  Cruces  three  days  since,  and  if 
we  push  on  we  may  fall  in  with  him  before  sunset,  or,  at  any  rate, 
to-morrow  morning.” 


84 


MR.  FORTE  SC  UK 


“ Is  it  not  possible  that  this  man  may  have  been  purposely  de- 
ceiving us,  or  be  himself  misinformed  ? ” I asked. 

“ Quite.  But  as  we  had  already  decided  to  go  on  it  does  not 
matter  a great  deal  whether  he  is  right  or  wrong.  I think,  though, 
he  knew  more  about  the  others  than  he  cared  to  tell.  All  the  more 
reason  for  keeping  a sharp  lookout  and  riding  slowly.” 

“ So  as  to  save  our  horses  ? ” 

“ Exactly.  We  may  have  to  ride  for  our  lives  before  the  sun 
goes  down.  And  now  let  us  mount  and  march.” 

Our  course  was  almost  due  west,  and  the  sun  being  now  a little 
past  the  zenith,  its  ardent  rays — which  shone  right  in  our  faces — 
together  with  the  reverberations  from  the  ground,  made  the  heat 
almost  insupportable.  The  stirrup-irons  burned  our  feet ; speech 
became  an  effort ; we  sat  in  our  saddles,  perspiring  and  silent ; our 
horses,  drooping  their  heads,  settled  into  a listless  and  languid  walk. 
The  glare  was  so  trying  that  I closed  my  eyes  and  let  Pizarro  go  as 
he  would.  Open  them  when  I might,  the  outlook  was  always  the 
same,  the  same  yellow  earth  and  blue  sky,  the  same  lifeless,  inter- 
minable plain,  the  same  solitary  sombrero  palms  dotting  the  distant 
horizon. 

This  went  on  for  an  hour  or  two,  and  I think  I must  have  fallen 
into  a doze,  for  when,  roused  by  a shout  from  Gahra,  I once  more 
opened  my  eyes  the  sun  was  lower  and  the  heat  less  intense. 

« What  is  it  ? ” asked  Carmen,  who,  like  myself,  had  been  half 
asleep.  “ I see  nothing.” 

“ A cloud  of  dust  that  moves — there  ! ” (pointing). 

“ So  it  is,”  shading  his  eyes  and  looking  again.  “ Coming  this 
way,  too.  Behind  that  cloud  is  a body  of  horsemen.  Be  they 
friends  or  enemies— Mejia  and  his  people  or  loyalist  guerillas  ? ” 

“ That  is  more  than  I can  say,  senor.  Mejia,  I hope.” 

“ I also.  But  hope  is  not  certainty,  and  until  we  can  make  sure 
we  had  better  hedge  away  toward  the  north,  so  as  to  be  nearer  the 
hills  in  case  we  have  to  run  for  it.” 

“You  think  we  had  better  make  for  the  hills  in  that  case?”  I 
asked. 

“ Decidedly.  Mejia  is  sure  to  return  thither,  and  Morale’s  men 
are  much  less  likely  to  follow  us  far  in  that  direction  than  south  or 
east.” 

So,  still  riding  leisurely,  we  diverged  a little  to  the  right,  keeping 
the  cloud-veiled  horsemen  to  our  left.  By  this  measure  we  should 


ON  THE  LLANOS.  « 85 

(if  they  proved  to  be  enemies)  prevent  them  from  getting  between 
us  and  the  hills,  and  thereby  cutting  off  our  best  line  of  retreat. 

Meanwhile  the  cloud  grew  bigger.  Before  long  we  could  dis- 
tinguish those  whom  it  had  hidden,  without,  however,  being  able  to 
decide  whether  they  were  friends  or  foes. 

Carmen  thought  they  numbered  at  least  two  hundred,  and  there 
might  be  more  behind.  But  who  they  were  he  could,  as  yet,  form 
no  idea. 

The  nearer  we  approached  them  the  greater  became  our  excite- 
ment and  surprise.  A few  minutes  and  we  should  either  be  riding 
for  our  lives  or  surrounded  by  friends.  We  looked  to  the  priming 
of  our  pistols,  tightened  our  belts  and  our  horses’  girths,  wiped  the 
sweat  and  dust  from  our  faces,  and,  while  hoping  for  the  best,  pre- 
pared for  the  worst. 

“ They  see  us  ! ” exclaimed  Carmen.  “ I can  not  quite  make 
them  out,  though.  I fear  . . . But  let  us  ride  quietly  on.  The 
secret  will  soon  be  revealed.” 

A dozen  horsemen  had  detached  themselves  from  the  main  body 
with  the  intention,  as  might  appear,  of  intercepting  our  retreat  in 
every  direction.  Four  went  south,  four  north,  and  four  moved 
slowly  round  to  our  rear. 

“ Had  we  not  better  push  on  ? ” I asked.  “ This  looks  very  like 
a hostile  demonstration.” 

“ So  it  does.  But  we  must  find  out — And  there  is  no  hurry. 
We  shall  only  have  the  four  who  are  coming  this  way  to  deal  with, 
the  others  are  out  of  the  running.  All  the  same,  we  may  as  well 
draw  a little  farther  to  the  right,  so  as  to  give  them  a longer  gallop 
and  get  them  as  far  from  the  main  body  as  may  be.” 

The  four  were  presently  near  enough  to  be  distinctly  seen. 

“Enemies!  Vamonos!”  cried  Carmen,  after  he  had  scanned 
their  faces.  “ But  not  too  fast.  If  they  think  we  are  afraid  and 
our  horses  tired  they  will  follow  us  without  waiting  for  the  others, 
and  perhaps  give  us  an  opportunity  of  teaching  them  better  man- 
ners. Your  horse  is  the  fleetest,  Senor  Fortescue.  You  had  better, 
perhaps,  ride  last.” 

On  this  hint  I acted  ; and  when  the  four  guerillas  saw  that  I was 
lagging  behind  they  redoubled  their  efforts  to  overtake  me,  but 
whenever  they  drew  nearer  than  I liked,  I let  Pizarro  out,  thereby 
keeping  their  horses,  which  were  none  too  fresh,  continually  on  the 
stretch.  The  others  were  too  far  in  the  rear  to  cause  us  concern? 


86 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


We  had  tested  the  speed  of  their  horses  and  knew  that  we  could 
leave  them  whenever  we  liked. 

After  we  had  gone  thus  about  a couple  of  miles  Carmen  slack- 
ened speed  so  as  to  let  me  come  up  with  him  and  Gahra. 

“We  have  five  minutes  to  spare/’  he  said.  “Shall  we  stop 
them  ? ” 

I nodded  assent,  whereupon  we  checked  our  horses,  and  wheel- 
ing around,  looked  our  pursuers  in  the  face.  This  brought  them 
up  short,  and  I thought  they  were  going  to  turn  tail,  but  after  a 
moments  hesitation  they  lowered  their  lances  and  came  on  albeit 
at  no  great  speed,  receiving  as  they  did  so  a point-blank  volley  from 
our  pistols,  which  emptied  one  of  their  saddles.  Then  we  drew  our 
swords  and  charged,  but  before  we  could  get  to  close  quarters  the 
three  men  sheered  off  to  the  right  and  left,  leaving  their  wounded 
comrade  to  his  fate.  It  did  not  suit  our  purpose  to  follow  them, 
and  we  were  about  to  go  on,  when  we  noticed  that  the  other  gueril- 
las, who  a few  minutes  previously  were  riding  hotly  after  us,  had 
ceased  their  pursuit,  and  were  looking  round  in  seeming  perplexity. 
The  main  body  had,  moreover,  come  to  a halt,  and  were  closing  up 
and  facing  the  other  way.  Something  had  happened.  What  could 
it  be  ? 

“ Another  cloud  of  dust,”  said  Gahra,  pointing  to  the  north- 
west. 

So  there  was,  and  moving  rapidly.  Had  our  attention  been  less 
taken  up  with  the  guerillas  this  new  portent  would  not  so  long  have 
escaped  us. 

“Mejia!  I’ll  wager  ten  thousand  piasters  that  behind  that 
cloud  are  Mejia  and  his  braves,”  exclaimed  Carmen,  excitedly. 
“ Hijo  de  Dios / Won’t  they  make  mince-meat  of  the  Spaniard? 
How  I wish  I were  with  them!  Shall  we  go  back,  Senor  Fortes- 
cue?” 

“ If  you  think — ” 

“ Think ! I am  sure.  I can  see  the  gleam  of  their  spears 
through  the  dust.  By  all  means,  let  us  join  them.  The  Spaniards 
have  too  much  on  their  hands  just  now  to  heed  us.  But  I must 
have  a spear.” 

And  with  that  Carmen  slipped  from  his  horse  and  picked  up 
the  lance  of  the  fallen  guerilla. 

“ Do  you  prefer  a spear  to  a sword  ? ” I asked,  as  we  rode  on. 

“ | like  both?  but  in  a charge  on  the  llanos  I prefer  a spear  de- 


CAUGHT. 


8 7 


cidedly.  Yet  I dare  say  you  will  do  better  with  the  weapon  to 
which  you  have  been  most  accustomed.  If  you  ward  off  or  evade 
the  first  thrust  and  get  to  your  opponent’s  left  rear  you  will  have 
him  at  your  mercy.  Our  llaneros  are  indifferent  swordsmen  ; but 
once  turn  your  back  and  you  are  doomed.  Hurrah  ! There  is  Mejia, 
leading  his  fellows  on.  Don’t  you  see  him  ? The  tall  man  on  the 
big  horse.  Forward,  senores ! We  may  be  in  time  for  the  en- 
counter even  yet.” 


CHAPTER  XIV, 

CAUGHT. 

A SMART  gallop  of  a few  minutes  brought  us  near  enough  to 
see  what  was  going  on,  though  as  we  had  to  make  a considerable 
dUour  in  order  to  avoid  the  Spaniards,  we  were  just  too  late  for  the 
charge,  greatly  to  Carmen’s  disappointment. 

In  numbers  the  two  sides  were  pretty  equal,  the  strength  of 
each  being  about  a thousand  men.  Their  tactics  were  rather  those 
of  Indian  braves  than  regular  troops.  The  patriots  were,  however 
both  better  led  and  better  disciplined  than  their  opponents,  and 
fought  with  a courage  and  a resolution  that  on  their  native  plains 
would  have  made  them  formidable  foes  for  the  “ crackest  of  u- 

ropean  cavalry.  , , , 

The  encounter  took  place  when  we  were  within  a few  hundred 
yards  of  Mejia’s  left  flank.  It  was  really  a charge  in  line  albeit  a 
very  broken  line,  every  man  riding  as  hard  as  he  could  and  fighting 
for  his  own  land.  All  were  armed  with  spears,  the  longest,  as  I 
afterward  learned,  being  wielded  by  Colombian  guachos.  These 
portentous  weapons-,  fully  fourteen  feet  long,  were  held  in  both 
hands,  the  reins  being  meanwhile  placed  on  the  knees,  and  the 
horses  guided  by  voice  and  spur.  The  Spaniards  seemed  terribly 
afraid  of  them,  as  well  they  might  be,  for  the  Colombian  spears  did 
dire  execution.  Few  missed  their  mark,  and  I saw  more  than  one 
trooper  literally  spitted  and  lifted  clean  out  of  his  saddle. 

Mejia,  distinguishable  by  his  tall  stature,  was  in  the  thick  of  the 
fray.  After  the  first  shock  he  threw  away  his  spear,  and  drawing  a 
long  two-handed  sword,  which  he  carried  at  his  back,  laid  about 
like  a cwur-de-lion-  The  combat  lasted  only  a few  minutes,  and 


88 


MR.  FOR  FESCUE. 


though  we  were  too  late  to  contribute  to  the  victory  we  were  in 
time  to  take  part  in  the  pursuit. 

It  was  a scene  of  wild  confusion  and  excitement ; the  Spaniards 
galloping  off  in  all  directions,  singly  and  in  groups,  making  no  at- 
tempt to  rally,  yet  when  overtaken,  fighting  to  the  last,  Mejia’s 
men  following  them  with  lowered  lances  and  wild  cries,  managing 
their  fiery  little  horses  with  consummate  ease,  and  making  no 
prisoners. 

“ Here  is.  a chance  for  us ; let  us  charge  these  fellows  ! ” shouted 
Carmen,  as  eight  or  nine  of  the  enemy  rode  past  us  in  full  retreat ; 
and  without  pausing  for  a reply  he  went  off  at  a gallop,  followed  by 
Gahra  and  myself ; for  although  I had  no  particular  desire  to  attack 
men  who  were  flying  for  their  lives  and  to  whom  I knew  no  quarter 
would  be  given,  it  was  impossible  to  hold  back  when  my  comrades 
were  rushing  into  danger.  Had  the  Spaniards  been  less  intent  on 
getting  away  it  would  have  fared  ill  with  us.  As  it  was,  we  were 
all  wounded.  Gahra  got  a thrust  through  the  arm,  Carmen  a gash 
in  the  thigh  ; and  as  I gave  one  fellow  the  point  in  his  throat  his 
spear  pierced  my  hat  and  cut  my  head.  If  some  of  the  patriots  had 
not  come  to  the  rescue  our  lives  would  have  paid  the  forfeit  of  our 
rashness. 

The  incident  was  witnessed  by  Mejia  himself,  who,  when  he  rec- 
ognized Carmen,  rode  forward,  greeted  us  warmly,  and  remarked 
that  we  were  just  in  time. 

“ To  be  too  late,”  answered  Carmen,  discontentedly,  as  he  twist- 
ed a handkerchief  round  his  wounded  thigh. 

“ Not  much  ; and  you  have  done  your  share.  That  was  a bold 
charge  you  made.  And  your  friends  ? I don’t  think  I have  the 
pleasure  of  knowing  them.” 

Carmen  introduced  us,  and  told  him  who  I was. 

“ I am  delighted  to  make  your  acquaintance,  senor,”  he  said, 
graciously,  “ and  I will  give  you  of  my  best ; but  I can  offer  you 
only  rough  fare  and  plenty  of  fighting.  Will  that  content  you  ? ” 

I bowed,  and  answered  that  I desired  nothing  better.  The  gue- 
rilla leader  was  a man  of  striking  appearance,  tall,  spare,  and  long 
limbed.  The  contour  of  his  face  was  Indian ; he  had  the  deep-set 
eyes,  square  jaws,  and  lank  hair  of  the  abonguil  race.  But  his  eyes 
were  blue,  his  hair  was  flaxen,  and  his  skin  as  fair  as  that  of  a pure- 
blooded  Teuton.  Mejia,  as  I subsequently  heard,  was  the  son  of  a 
German  father  and  a mestizma  mother,  and  prouder  of  his  Indian 


CA  UGHT. 


89 


than  his  European  ancestry.  It  was  probably  for  this  reason  that 
he  preferred  being  called  Mejia  rather  than  Morgenstern  y Mejia, 
his  original  appellation.  His  hereditary  hatred  of  the  Spaniards,  in- 
flamed by  a sense  of  personal  wrong,  was  his  ruling  passion.  He 
spared  none  of  the  race  (being  enemies)  who  fell  into  his  hands. 
Natives  of  the  country,  especially  those  with  Indian  blood  in  their 
veins,  he  treated  more  mercifully— when  his  men  would  let  him,  for 
they  liked  killing  even  more  than  they  liked  fighting,  and  had  an 
unpleasant  way  of  answering  a remonstrance  from  their  officers 
with  a thrust  from  their  spears. 

Mejia  owed  his  ascendancy  over  them  quite  as  much  to  his 
good  fortune  in  war  as  to  his  personal  prowess  and  resolute  char- 
acter. 

“ If  I were  to  lose  a battle  they  would  probably  take  my  life,  and 
I should  certainly  have  to  resign  my  command,”  he  observed,  when 
we  were  talking  the  matter  over  after  the  pursuit  (which,  night  be- 
ing near,  was  soon  abandoned) ; “ and  a llanero  leader  must  lead — 
no  playing  the  general  or  watching  operations  from  the  rear— or  it 
will  be  the  worse  for  him.” 

“ I understand  ; he  must  be  first  or  nowhere.” 

“ Yes,  first  or  nowhere  ; and  they  will  brook  no  punishment  save 
death.  If  a man  disobeys  me  I either  let  it  pass  or  shoot  him  out 
of  hand,  according  to  circumstances.  If  I were  to  strike  a man  or 
order  him  under  arrest,  the  entire  force  would  either  mutiny  or  dis- 
band. Siy  senor,  my  llcmeros  are  wild  fellows.” 

They  looked  it.  Most  of  them  wore  only  a ragged  shirt  over 
equally  ragged  trousers.  Their  naked  feet  were  thrust  into  rusty 
stirrups.  Some  rode  bare-backed,  and  there  were  among  them 
men  of  every  breed  which  the  country  produced  : mestizoes,  mulat- 
toes,  zambos,  quadroons,  negroes,  and  Indios,  but  all  born  gctii- 
chos  and  llaneroSy  hardy  and  in  high  condition,  and  well  skilled  in 
the  use  of  lasso  and  spear.  They  were  volunteers,  too,  and  if  their 
chief  failed  to  provide  them  with  a sufficiency  of  fighting  and  plun- 
der, they  had  no  hesitation  in  taking  themselves  off  without  asking 
for  leave  of  absence. 

When  Mejia  heard  that  a British  force  was  being  raised  for 
service  against  the  Spaniards  he  was  greatly  delighted,  and  offered 
me  on  the  spot  a command  in  his  “army,”  or,  alternatively,  the  po- 
sition of  his  principal  aide-de-camp.  I preferred  the  latter. 

" You  have  decided  wisely,  and  I thank  you,  senov  coroneh 


9° 


MR.  FORTE SCUE. 


The  advice  and  assistance  of  a soldier  who  has  seen  so  much  of 
war  as  you  have  will  be  very  valuable  and  highly  esteemed/’ 

I reminded  the  chief  that,  in  the  British  army,  I had  held  no 
higher  rank  than  that  of  lieutenant. 

“ What  matters  that  ? I have  made  myself  a general,  and  I 
make  you  a colonel.  Who  is  there  to  say  me  nay?  ” he  demanded, 
proudly. 

Though  much  amused  by  this  summary  fashion  of  conferring 
military  rank,  I kept  a serious  countenance,  and,  after  congratulat- 
ing General  Mejia  on  his  promotion  and  thanking  him  for  mine,  I 
said  that  I should  do  my  best  to  justify  his  confidence. 

We  bivouacked  on  the  banks  of  a stream  some  ten  miles  from 
the  scene  of  our  encounter  with  the  loyalists.  On  our  way  thither, 
Mejia  told  us  that  he  had  taken  and  destroyed  Tres  Cruces,  and  was 
now  contemplating  an  attack  on  General  Griscelli  at  San  Felipe,  as 
to  which  he  asked  my  opinion. 

I answered  that,  as  I knew  nothing  either  of  the  defense  of  San 
Felipe  or  of  the  strength  and  character  of  the  force  commanded  by 
General  Griscelli,  I could  give  none.  On  this,  Mejia  informed  me 
that  the-  place  was  a large  village  and  military  post,  defended  by 
earthworks  and  block-houses,  and  that  the  force  commanded  by 
Griscelli  consisted  of  about  twenty-five  hundred  men,  of  whom 
about  half  were  regulars,  half  native  auxiliaries. 

“ Has  he  any  artillery  ? ” I asked. 

“ About  ten  pieces  of  position,  but  no  field-guns.” 

“ And  you  ? ” 

“ I have  none  whatever.” 

“ Nor  any  infantry  ? ” 

“Not  here.  But  my  colleague,  General  Estero,  is  at  present 
organizing  a force  which  I dare  say  will  exceed  two  thousand  men, 
and  he  promises  to  join  me  in  the  course  of  a week  or  two.” 

“ That  is  better,  certainly.  Nevertheless,  I fear  that  with  one 
thousand  horse  and  two  thousand  foot,  and  without  artillery,  you 
will  not  find  it  easy  to  capture  a strong  place,  armed  with  ten  guns 
and  held  by  twenty-five  hundred  men,  of  whom  half  are  regulars. 
If  I were  you  I would  let  San  Felipe  alone.” 

Mejia  frowned.  My  advice  was  evidently  not  to  his  liking. 

“ Let  me  tell  you,  seitor  coronel he  said,  arrogantly,  “our 
patriot  soldiers  are  equal  to  any  in  the  world,  regular  or  irregular. 
And,  don’t  you  see  that  the  very  audacity  of  the  enterprise  counts 


CA  UGHT. 


91 


in  our  favor  ? The  last  thing  Griscelli  expects  is  an  attack.  We 
shall  find  him  unprepared  and  take  him  by  surprise.  That  man 
has  done  us  a great  deal  of  harm.  He  hangs  every  patriot  who  falls 
into  his  hands,  and  I have  made  up  my  mind  to  hang  him  ! ” 

After  this  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  said,  and  I held  my 
peace.  I soon  found,  moreover,  that  albeit  Mejia  often  made  a 
show  of  consulting  me  he  had  no  intention  of  accepting  my  advice, 
and  that  all  his  officers  (except  Carmen)  and  most  of  his  men  re- 
garded me  as  a gringo  (foreign  interloper)  and  were  envious  of  my 
promotion,  and  jealous  of  my  supposed  influence  with  the  general. 

We  bivouacked  in  a valley  on  the  verge  of  the  llanos,  and  the 
next  few  days  were  spent  in  raiding  cattle  and  preparing  tasajo . 
We  had  also  another  successful  encounter  with  a party  of  Morale  s 
guerillas.  This  raised  Mejia’s  spirits  to  the  highest  point,  and  made 
him  more  resolute  than  ever  to  attack  San  Felipe.  But  when  I saw 
General  Estero’s  infantry  my  misgivings  as  to  the  outcome  of  the 
adventure  were  confirmed.  His  men,  albeit  strong  and  sturdy  and 
full  of  fight,  were  badly  disciplined  and  indifferently  armed,  their 
officers  extremely  ignorant  and  absurdly  boastful  and  confident. 
Estero  himself,  though  like  Mejia,  a splendid  patriotic  leader,  was  no 
general,  and  I felt  sure  that  unless  we  caught  Griscelli  asleep  we 
should  find  San  Felipe  an  uncommonly  hard  nut  to  crack.  I need 
hardly  say,  however,  that  I kept  this  opinion  religiously  to  myself. 
Everybody  was  so  confident  and  cock-sure  that  the  mere  suggestion 
of  a doubt  would  have  been  regarded  as  treason  and  probably  ex- 
posed me  to  danger. 

A march  of  four  days,  partly  across  the  llanos,  partly  among 
the  wooded  hills  by  which  they  were  bounded,  brought  us  one  morn- 
ing to  a suitable  camping-ground,  within  a few  miles  of  San  Felipe, 
and  Mejia,  who  had  assumed  the  supreme  command,  decided  that 
the  attack  should  take  place  on  the  following  night. 

“ You  will  surely  reconnoiter  first,  General  Mejia,”  I ventured  to 
say. 

“ What  would  be  the  use  ? Estero  and  I know  the  place. 
However,  if  you  and  Carmen  like  to  go  and  have  a look  you  may. 

Carmen  was  nothing  loath,  and  two  hours  before  sunset  we  sad- 
dled our  horses  and  set  out.  I could  speak  more  freely  to  him  than 
to  any  of  the  others,  and  as  we  rode  on  I remarked  how  carelessly 
the  camp  was  guarded.  There  were  no  proper  outposts,  and  instead 
g>£  beinjgr  kept  out  of  sight  in  the  quebrado . the  rnen  were  allowed  tQ 


92  MR.  FORTE SCUE. 

come  and  go  as  they  liked.  Nothing  would  be  easier  than  for  a 
treacherous  soldier  to  desert  and  give  information  to  the  enemy 
which  might  not  only  ruin  the  expedition  but  bring  destruction  on 
the  army. 

“ No,  no,  Fortescue,  I can  not  agree  to  that.  There  are  no 
traitors  among  us,”  said  my  companion,  warmly. 

“ I hope  not.  Yet  how  can  you  guarantee  that  among  two  or 
three  thousand  men  there  is  not  a single  rascal ! In  war,  you 
should  leave  nothing  to  chance.  And  even  though  none  of  the 
fellows  desert  it  is  possible  that  some  of  them  may  wander  too  far 
away  and  get  taken  prisoners,  which  would  be  quite  as  bad.” 

“ You  mean  it  would  give  Griscelli  warning  ? ” 

« Exactly,  and  if  he  is  an  enterprising  general  he  would  not  wait 
to  be  attacked.  Instead  of  letting  us  surprise  him  he  would  sur- 
prise us.” 

“ Caramba  ! So  he  would.  And  Griscelli  is  an  enterprising  gen- 
eral. We  must  mention  -this  to  Mejia  when  we  get  back,  amigo  mioF 
“ You  may,  if  you  like.  I am  tired  of  giving  advice  which  is 
never  heeded,”  I said,  rather  bitterly. 

“I  will,  certainly,  and  then  whatever  befalls  I shall  have  a 
clear  conscience.  Mejia  is  one  of  the  bravest  men  I know.  It  is  a 
pity  he  is  so  self-opinionated.” 

« Yes,  and  to  make  a general  a man  must  have  something  more 
than  bravery.  He  must  have  brains.” 

Carmen  knew  the  country  we  were  in  thoroughly,  and  at  his 
suggestion  we  went  a roundabout  way  through  the  woods  in  order 
to  avoid  coming  in  contact  with  any  of  Griscelli  s people.  On  reach- 
ing a hill  overlooking  San  Felipe  we  tethered  our  horses  in  a grove 
of* trees  where  they  were  well  hidden,  and  completed  the  ascent  on  \ 
foot.  Then,  lying  down,  and  using  a field-glass  lent  us  by  Mejia, 
we  made  a careful  survey  of  the  place  and  its  surroundings.” 

San  Felipe,  a picturesque  village  of  white  houses  with  thatched  | 
roofs,  lay  in  a wide  well-cultivated  valley,  looking  south,  and  wa- 
tered by  a shallow  stream  which  in  the  rainy  season  was  probably  a , 
wide  river.  At  each  corner  of  the  village,  well  away  from  the  houses,  i 
was  a large  block-house,  no  doubt  pierced  for  musketry.  From  ( 
one  block-house  to  another  ran  an  earthen  parapet  with  a ditch,  t 
and  on  each  parapet  were  mounted  three  guns. 

“ Well,  what  think  you  of  San  Felipe,  and  our  chances  of  taking  \ 
it?  ” asked  Carmen?  after  a while, 


AN  OLD  ENEMY 


$3 


“ I don’t  think  its  defenses  are  very  formidable.  A single  mor- 
tar on  that  height  to  the  east  would  make  the  place  untenable  in  an 
hour ; set  it  on  fire  in  a dozen  places.  It  is  all  wood.  But  to  at- 
tempt its  capture  with  a force  of  infantry  numerically  inferior  to  the 
garrison  will  be  a very  hazardous  enterprise  indeed,  and  barring 
miraculously  good  luck  on  the  one  side  or  miraculously  ill  luck  on 
the  other  can  not  possibly  succeed,  I should  say.  No,  Carmen,  I 
don’t  think  we  shall  be  in  San  Felipe  to-morrow  night,  or  any  night, 
just  yet.” 

“ But  how  if  a part  of  the  garrison  be  absent  ? Hist ! Did  not 
you  hear  something  ? ” 

“ Only  the  crackling  of  a branch.  Some  wild  animal,  probably. 
I wonder  whether  there  are  any  jaguars  hereabout — ” 

“ Oh,  if  the  garrison  be  weak  and  the  sentries  asleep  it  is  quite 
possible  we  may  take  the  place  by  a rush.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
it  is  equally  possible  that  Grisceili  may  have  got  wind  of  our  inten- 
tion, and — ” 

“ There  it  is  again ! Something  more  than  a wild  animal  this 
time,  Fortescue,”  exclaims  Carmen,  springing  to  his  feet. 

I follow  his  example  ; but  the  same  instant  a dozen  men  spring 
from  the  bushes,  and  before  we  can  offer  any  resistance,  or  even 
draw  our  swords,  we  are  borne  to  the  ground  and  despite  our  strug- 
gles, our  arms  pinioned  to  our  sides. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

AN  OLD  ENEMY. 

Our  captors  were  Spanish  soldiers. 

“ Be  good  enough  to  rise  and  accompany  us  to  San  Felipe, 
senores,”  said  the  non-cornmissioned  officer  in  command  of  the  de- 
tachment, “ and  if  you  attempt  to  escape  I shall  blow  your  brains 
out.” 

“ Dios  mio  ! It  serves  us  right  for  not  keeping  a better  look- 
out,” said  Carmen,  with  a laugh  which  I thought  sounded  rather 
hollow.  “ We  shall  be  in  San  Felipe  sooner  than  we  expected,  that 
is  all.  Lead  on,  sergeant ; we  have  a dozen  good  reasons  for  not 
trying  to  escape,  to  say  nothing  of  our  strait  waistcoats.” 


94 


MR.  FORTE  SC  UR. 


Whereupon  we  were  marched  down . the  hill  and  taken  to  San 
Felipe,  two  men  following  with  our  horses,  from  which  and  other 
circumstances  I inferred  that  we  had  been  under  observation  ever 
since  our  arrival  in  the  neighborhood.  The  others  were  doubtless 
under  observation  also ; and  at  the  moment  I thought  less  of  our 
own  predicament  (in  view  of  the  hanging  propensities  of  General 
Griscelli,  a decidedly  unpleasant  one)  than  of  the  terrible  surprise 
which  awaited  Mejia  and  his  army,  for,  as  I quickly  perceived,  the 
Spaniards  were  quite  on  the  alert,  and  fully  prepared  for  whatever 
might  befall.  The  place  swarmed  with  soldiers  ; sentries  were 
pacing  to  and  fro  on  the  parapets,  gunners  furbishing  up  their 
pieces,  and  squads  of  native  auxiliaries  being  drilled  on  a broad 
savanna  outside  the  walls. 

Many  of  the  houses'  were  mere  huts — roofs  on  stilts ; others, 
“wattle  and  dab  ” ; a few,  brown-stone.  To  the  most  imposing  of 
these  we  were  conducted  by  our  escort.  Above  the  doorway,  on 
either  side  of  which  stood  a sentry,  was  an  inscription : “ Head- 
quarters : General  Griscelli.” 

The  sergeant  asked  one  of  the  sentries  if  the  general  was  in,  and 
receiving  an  answer  in  the  affirmative  he  entered,  leaving  us  outside. 
Presently  he  returned. 

“ The  general  will  see  you,”  he  said ; “ be  good  enough  to  come 
in.” 

We  went  in,  and  after  traversing  a wide  corridor  were  ushered 
into  a large  room,  where  an  officer  in  undress  uniform  sat  writing 
at  a big  table.  Several  other  officers  were  lounging  in  easy-chairs, 
and  smoking  big  cigars. 

“ Here  are  the  prisoners,  general,”  announced  our  conductor. 

The  man  at  the  table,  looking  up,  glanced  first  at  Carmen,  then 
at  me. 

“ Caramba  ! ” he  exclaimed,  with  a stare  of  surprise,  “ you  and 
I have  met  before,  I think.” 

I returned  the  stare  with  interest,  for  though  I recognized  him  I 
could  hardly  believe  my  own  eyes. 

“ On  the  field  of  Salamanca  ? ” 

“ Of  course.  You  are  the  English  officer  who  behaved  so  inso- 
lently and  got  me  reprimanded.”  (This  in  French.) 

“ I did  no  more  than  my  duty.  It  was  you  that  behaved  inso- 
lently.” 

“Take  care  what  you  say,  sehor,  or  fi or  Dios — There  is  no 


AM  OLD  EMEMY,  95 

English  general  to  whom  you  can  appeal  for  protection  now.  What 
are  you  doing  here  ? ” 

“ Not  much  good,  I fear.  Your  men  brought  me ; I had  not  the 
least  desire  to  come,  I assure  you.” 

“ You  were  caught  on  the  hill  yonder,  surveying  the  town  through 
a glass,  and  Sergeant  Prim  overheard  part  of  a conversation  which 
leaves  no  doubt  that  you  are  officers  in  Mejia’s  army.  Besides,  you 
were  seen  coming  from  the  quarter  where  he  encamped  this  morn- 
ing. Is  this  so  ? ” 

Carmen  and  I exchanged  glances.  My  worst  fears  were  con- 
firmed— we  had  been  betrayed. 

“ Is  this  so  ? I repeat.” 

“ It  is.” 

“ And  have  you,  an  English  officer  who  has  fought  for  Spain, 
actually  sunk  so  low  as  to  serve  with  a herd  of  ruffianly  rebels? ” 
“At  any  rate,  General  Griscelli,  I never  deserted  to  the  enemy.” 
The  taunt  stung  him  to  the  quick.  Livid  with  rage,  he  sprung 
from  his  chair  and  placed  his  hand  on  his  sword. 

“Do  you  know  that  you  are  in  my  power?”  he  exclaimed. 
“Had  you  uttered  this  insult  in  Spatiish,  instead  of  in  French,  I 
would  have  strung  you  up  without  more  ado.” 

“ You  insulted  me  first.  If  you  are  a true  Caballero  give  me  the 
satisfaction  which  I have  a right  to  demand.” 

« No,  senor ; I don’t  meet  rebels  on  the  field  of  honor.  If  they 
are  common  folk  I hang  them;  if  they  are  gentlemen  I behead 
them.”  ~ 

“Which  is  in  store  for  us,  may  I ask  ? ” 

“ Por  Dios!  you  take  it  very  coolly.  Perhaps  neither.” 

“ You  will  let  me  go,  then  ? ” 

“ Let  you  go  ! Let  you  go  ! Yes,  I will  let  you  gc,”  laughing 
like  a man  who  has  made  a telling  joke,  or  conceived  a brilliant 
idea. 

“ When  ? ” 

“ Don’t  be  impatient,  senor ; I should  like  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  your  company  for  a day  or  two  before  we  part.  Perhaps  after 
What  is  the  strength  of  Mejia’s  army  ? ” 

“ I decline  to  say.” 

“ I think  I could  make  you  say,  though,  if  it  were  worth  the 
trouble.  As  it  happens,  I know  already.  He  has  about  two  thou- 
sand infantry  and  one  thousand  cavalry.  What  has  he  come  here 


=*='■  ■ 


gQ  MR.  FORTESCUE. 

for  ? Does  the  fool  actually  suppose  that  with  a force  like  that  he 
can  capture  San  Felipe  ? Such  presumption  deserves  punishment, 
and  I shall  give  him  a lesson  he  will  not  easily  forget— if  he  lives  to 
remember  it.  Your  name  and  quality,  seflor  ” (to  Carmen). 

“ Salvador  Carmen,  teniente  in  the  patriot  army. 

“ j suppose  you  have  heard  how  I tieai  patriots?  ^ 

“ Yes,  general,  and  I should  like  to  treat  you  in  the  same  way,” 

“ You  mean  you  would  like  to  hang  me.  In  that  case  you  can 
not  complain  if  I hang  you.  However,  I won’t  hang  you— to-day. 

I will  either  send  you  to  the  next  world  in  the  company  of  your 
general,  or  let  you  go  with — ” 

“ Senor  Fortescue  ? ” 

“ Thank  you— with  Senor  Fortescue.  That  is  all,  I think. 
Take  him  to  the  guard-house,  sergeant — Stay!  If  you  will 
give  me  your  parole  not  to  leave  the  town  without  my  permission, 
or  make  any  attempt  to  escape,  you  may  remain  at  large,  Senor  For- 
tescue.” 

“ For  how  long?  ” 

“ Two  days.” 

As  escape  in  the  circumstances  seemed  quite  out  of  the  ques- 
tion, I gave  my  parole  without  hesitation,  and  asked  the  same  favor 
for  my  companion. 

« No  ” (sternly).  “ I could  not  believe  a rebel  creole  on  his 
oath.  Take  him  away,  sergeant,  and  see  that  he  is  well  guarded. 
If  you  let  him  escape  I will  hang  you  in  his  stead.” 

Despite  our  bonds  Carmen  and  I contrived  to  shake  hands,  or 
rather,  touch  fingers,  for  it  was  little  more. 

“ We  shall  meet  again,”  I whispered.  “ If  I had  known  that  he 
'would  not  take  your  parole  I would  not  have  given  mine.  Let 
courage  be  our  watchword.  Hasta  mancma  /” 

“ Pray  take  a seat,  Seflor  Fortescue,  and  we  will  have  a talk 
about  old  times  in  Spain.  Allow  me  to  offer  you  a cigar  I beg 
your  pardon,  I was  forgetting  that  my  fellows  had  tied  you  up. 
Captain  Guzman  (to  one  of  the  loungers),  will  you  kindly  loose  Mi. 
Fortescue?  Gracias ! Now  you  can  take  a cigar,  and  here  is  a 

chair  for  you.”  . , . 

I was  by  no  means  sure  that  this  sudden  display  of  urbanity 
boded  me  good,  but  being  a prisoner,  and  at  Griscelli’s  mercy,  I 
thought  it  as  well  to  humor  him,  so  accepted  the  cigar  and  seated 
myself  by  his  side. 


AN  OLD  ENEMY. 


97 

After  a talk  about  the  late  war  in  Spain,  in  the  course  of  which 
Griscelli  told  some  wonderful  stories  of  the  feats  he  had  performed 
there  (for  the  man  was  egregiously  vain)  he  led  the  conversation  to 
the  present  war  in  South  America,  and  tried  to  worm  out  of  me 
where  I had  been  and  what  I had  done  since  my  arrival  in  the 
country.  I answered  him  courteously  and  diplomatically,  taking 
good  care  to  tell  him  nothing  that  I did  not  want  to  be  known. 

“ I see,”  he  said,  “ it  was  a love  of  adventure  that  brought  you 
here — you  English  are  always  running  after  adventures.  A Cabal- 
lero like  you  can  have  no  sympathy  with  these  rascally  rebels.” 

“ I beg  your  pardon  ; I do  sympathize  with  the  rebels ; not,  I 
confess,  as  warmly  as  I did  at  first,  and  if  I had  known  as  much  as 
I know  now,  I think  I should  have  hesitated  to  join  them.” 

“ How  so  ? ” 

“ They  kill  prisoners  in  cold  blood,  and  conduct  war  more  like 
savages  than  Christians.” 

“ You  are  right,  they  do.  Yes,  killing  prisoners  in  cold  blood  is 
a brutal  practice ! I am  obliged  to  be  severe  sometimes,  much  to 
my  regret.  But  there  is  only  one  way  of  dealing  with  a rebellion — 
you  must  stamp  it  out ; civil  war  is  not  as  other  wars.  Why  not 
join  us,  Senor  Fortescue?  I will  give  you  a command.” 

“ That  is  quite  out  of  the  question,  General  Griscelli ; I am  not 
a mere  soldier  of  fortune.  I have  eaten  these  people’s  salt,  and 
though  I don’t  like  some  of  their  ways,  I wish  well  to  their  cause.” 
“Think  better  of  it,  senor.  The  alternative  might  not  be 
agreeable.” 

“ Whatever  the  alternative  may  be,  my  decision  is  irrevocable. 
And  you  said  just  now  you  would  let  me  go.” 

“ Oh,  yes,  I will  let  you  go,  since  you  insist  on  it  ” (smiling). 
“ All  the  same,  I think  you  will  regret  your  decision — Mejia,  of 
course,  means  to  attack  us.  He  can  have  come  with  no  other  ob- 
ject—by  your  advice  ? ” 

“ Certainly  not.” 

“That  means  he  is  acting  against  your  advice.  The  man  is 
mad.  He  thought  of  taking  us  by  surprise,  I suppose.  Why,  I 
knew  he  was  on  his  way  hither  two  days  ago ! And  if  he  does 
not  attack  us  to-night— and  we  are  quite  ready  for  him — I shall 
capture  him  and  the  whole  of  his  army  to-morrow.  I want  you  to 
go  with  us  and  witness  the  operation — in  the  character  of  a spec- 
tator.” 


7 


98 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


“ And  a prisoner  ? ” 

11  If  you  choose  to  put  it  so.” 

44  In  that  case,  there  is  no  more  to  be  said,  though  for  choice,  I - 
would  rather  not  witness  the  discomfiture  of  my  friends.” 

Griscelli  gave  an  ironical  smile,  which  I took  to  mean  that  it  was 
precisely  for  this  reason  that  he  asked  me  to  accompany  him. 

“Will  you  kindly  receive  Senor  Fortescue,  as  your  guest,  Cap- 
tain Guzman,”  he  said,  44  take  him  to  your  quarters,  give  him  his 
supper,  and  find  him  a bed.” 

44  Con  mucho  gusto . Shall  we  go  now,  Senor  Fortescue  ? ” I 
went,  and  spent  a very  pleasant  evening  with  Gaptain  Guzman,  and 
several  of  his  brother-officers,  whom  he  invited  to  join  us,  for  though 
the  Spaniards  of  that  age  were  frightfully  cruel  to  their  enemies,  they 
were  courteous  to  their  guests,  and  as  a guest  I was  treated.  As, 
moreover,  most  of  the  men  I met  had  served  in  the  Peninsular  war, 
we  had  quite  enough  to  talk  about  without  touching  on  topics  whose 
discussion  might  have  been  incompatible  with  good  fellowship. 

When,  at  a late  hour,  I turned  into  the  hammock  provided  for 
me  by  Guzman,  it  required  an  effort  to  realize  that  I was  a prisoner. 

Why,  I asked  myself,  had  Griscelli,  who  was  never  known  to  spare  a 
prisoner,  whose  face  was  both  cruel  and  false,  and  who  could  bear 
me  no  good-will — why  had  this  man  treated  me  so  courteously  ? Did 
he  really  mean  to  let  me  go,  and  if  so,  why ; or  was  the  promise 
made  to  the  ear  merely  to  be  broken  to  the  hope  ? 

44  Perhaps  to-morrow  will  show,”  I thought,  as  I fell  asleep  ; and 
I was  not  far  out,  for  the  day  after  did.  Guzman,  whose  room  I 
shared,  wakened  me  long  before  daylight. 

44  The  bugle  has  sounded  the  reveille,  and  the  troops  are  muster-  { 
ing  on  the  plaza,”  he  said.  “You  had  better  rise  and  dress.  The 
general  has  sent  word  that  you  are  to  go  with  us,  and  our  horses 
are  in  th z patio.” 

I got  up  at  once,  and  after  drinking  a hasty  cup  of  coffee,  we 
mounted  and  joined  Griscelli  and  his  staff.  j 

The  troops  were  already  under  arms,  and  a few  minutes  later  we 
marched,  our  departure  being  so  timed,  as  I heard  the  general  ob- 
serve to  one  of  his  aides-de-camp,  that  we  might  reach  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  rebel  camp  shortly  before  sunrise.  His  plan  was 
well  conceived,  and,  unless  Mejia  had  been  forewarned  or  was  keep- 
ing a sharper  lookout  than  he  was  in  the  habit  of  doing,  I feared  it 
would  go  ill  with  him. 


AN  OLD  ENEMY, 


99 

The  camping-ground  was  much  better  suited  for  concealment 
than  defense.  It  lay  in  a hollow  of  the  hills,  in  shape  like  a horse- 
shoe, with  a single  opening,  looking  east,  and  was  commanded  in 
every  other  direction  by  wooded  heights.  Griscelli’s  plan  was  to 
occupy  the  heights  with  skirmishers,  who,  hidden  behind  the  trees 
and  bushes,  could  shoot  down  the  rebels  with  comparative  security. 
A force  of  infantry  and  cavalry  would  meanwhile  take  possession  of 
the  opening  and  cut  off  their  retreat.  In  this  way,  thought  Griscelli, 
the  patriots  would  either  be  slaughtered  to  a man,  or  compelled  to 
surrender  at  discretion. 

I could  not  deny  (though  I did  not  say  so)  that  he  had  good 
grounds  for  this  opinion.  The  only  hope  for  Mejia  was  that, 
alarmed  by  our  disappearance,  he  had  stationed  outposts  on  the 
heights  and  a line  of  vedettes  on  the  San  Felipe  road,  and  fortified 
the  entrance  to  the  quebrada.  In  that  case  the  attack  might  be  re- 
pulsed, despite  the  superiority  of  the  Spanish  infantry  and  the  disad- 
vantages of  Mejia’s  position.  But  the  probabilities  were  against  his 
having  taken  any  of  these  precautions  ; the  last  thing  he  thought  of 
was  being  attacked,  and  I could  hardly  doubt  that  he  would  be 
fatally  entangled  in  the  toils  which  were  being  laid  for  him. 

While  these  thoughts  were  passing  through  my  mind  we  were 
marching  rapidly  and  silently  toward  our  destination,  lighted  only 
by  the  stars.  The  force  consisted  of  two  brigades,  the  second  of 
which,  commanded  by  General  Estero,  had  gone  on  half  an  hour 
previously.  I was  with  the  first  and  rode  with  Griscelli’s  staff.  So 
far  there  had  not  been  the  slightest  hitch,  and  the  Spaniards  prom- 
ised themselves  an  easy  victory. 

It  had  been  arranged  that  the  first  brigade  should  wait,  about 
a mile  from  the  entrance  to  the  valley  until  Estero  opened  fire,  and 
then  advance  and  occupy  the  outlet.  Therefore,  when  we  reached 
the  point  in  question  a halt  was  called,  and  we  all  listened  eagerly 
for  the  preconcerted  signal. 

And  then  occurred  one  of  those  accidents  which  so  often  mar 
the  best  laid  plans.  After  we  had  waited  a full  hour,  and  just  as 
day  began  to  break,  the  rattle  of  musketry  was  heard  on  the  heights, 
whereupon  Griscelli,  keenly  alive  to  the  fact  that  every  moment  of 
delay  impaired  his  chances  of  success,  ordered  his  men  to  fall  in 
and  march  at  the  double.  But,  unfortunately  for  the  Spaniards,  the 
shots  we  had  heard  were  fired  too  soon.  The  way  through  the 
woods  was  long  and  difficult,  Estero  s men  got  out  of  hand ; some 


ioo 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


of  them,  in  their  excitement,  fired  too  soon,  with  the  result  that, 
when  the  first  division  appeared  in  the  valley,  the  patriots,  rudely 
awakened  from  their  fancied  security,  were  getting  under  arms,  and 
Mejia  saw  at  a glance  into  what  a terrible  predicament  his  overcon- 
fidence had  led  him.  He  saw  also  (for  though  an  indifferent  gen- 
eral he  was  no  fool)  that  the  only  way  of  saving  his  army  from  de- 
struction, was  to  break  out  of  the  valley  at  all  hazards,  before  the 
Spaniards  inclosed  him  in  a ring  of  fire. 

Mejia  took  his  measures  accordingly.  Placing  his  llaneros  and 
gauchos  in  front  and  the  infantry  in  the  rear,  he  advanced  reso- 
lutely to  the  attack ; and  though  it  is  contrary  to  rule  for  light  cav- 
alry to  charge  infantry,  this  order,  considering  the  quality  of  the 
rebel  foot  was  probably  the  best  which  he  could  adopt. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  Spanish  position  was  very  strong,  Gris- 
celli  massed  his  infantry  in  the  throat  of  the  quebrada , the  thickets 
on  either  side  of  it  being  occupied  in  force.  The  reserve  consisted 
exclusively  of  horse,  an  arm  in  which  he  was  by  no  means  strong. 
Mejia  was  thus  encompassed  on  three  sides,  and  had  his  foes  re- 
served their  fire  and  stood  their  ground,  he  could  not  possibly  have 
broken  through  them.  But  the  Spaniards  opened  fire  as  soon  as 
the  rebels  came  within  range.  Before  they  could  reload,  the  gauchos 
charged,  and  though  many  saddles  were  emptied,  the  rebel  horse 
rode  so  resolutely  and  their  long  spears  looked  so  formidable,  that 
the  Spaniards  gave  way  all  along  the  line,  and  took  refuge  among 
the  trees,  thereby  leaving  the  patriots  a free  course. 

This  was  the  turning-point  of  the  battle,  and  had  the  rebel  in- 
fantry shown  as  much  courage  as  their  cavalry  the  Spaniards  would 
have  been  utterly  beaten  j but  their  only  idea  was  to  get  away  ; they 
bolted  as  fast  as  their  legs  could  carry  them,  an  example  which  was 
promptly  imitated  by  the  Spanish  cavalry,  who  instead  of  charging 
the  rebel  horse  in  flank  as  they  emerged  from  the  valley,  galloped 
off  toward  San  Felipe,  followed  nolens  volens  by  Griscelli  and  his 
staff. 

It  was  the  only  battle  I ever  saw  or  heard  of  in  which  both  sides 
ran  away.  If  Mejia  had  gone  to  San  Felipe  he  might  have  taken  it 
without  striking  a blow,  but  besides  having  lost  many  of  his  brave 
llaneros , he  had  his  unfortunate  infantry  to  rally  and  protect,  and 
the  idea  probably  never  occurred  to  him. 

As  for  the  Spanish  infantry,  they  stayed  in  the  woods  till  the 
coast  was  clear,  and  then  hied  them  home. 


THE  A Z UFERA  LES. 


IOI 

Griscelli  was  wild  with  rage.  To  have  his  well-laid  plans 
thwarted  by  cowardice  and  stupidity,  the  easy  victory  he  had  prom- 
ised himself  turned  into  an  ignominious  defeat  at  the  very  moment 
when,  had  his  orders  been  obeyed,  the  fortunes  of  the  day  might 
have  been  retrieved — all  this  would  have  proved  a severe  trial  for  a 
hero  or  a saint,  and  certainly  Griscelli  bore  his  reverse  neither  with 
heroic  fortitude  nor  saintly  resignation.  He  cursed  like  the  jackdaw 
of  Rheims,  threatened  dire  vengeance  on  all  and  sundry,  and  killed 
one  of  the  runaway  troopers  with  his  own  hand.  I narrowly  es- 
caped sharing  the  same  fate.  Happening  to  catch  sight  of  me  when 
his  passion  was  at  the  height  he  swore  that  he  would  shoot  at  least 
one  rebel,  and  drawing  a pistol  from  his  holster  pointed  it  at  my 
head.  I owed  my  life  to  Captain  Guzman,  who  was  one  of  the  best 
and  bravest  of  his  officers. 

“Pray  don’t  do  that,  general,”  he  said.  “ It  would  be  an  ill  re- 
quital for  Senor  Fortescue’s  faithful  observance  of  his  parole.  And 
you  promised  to  let  him  go.” 

“ Promised  to  let  him  go ! So  I did,  and  I will  be  as  good  as 
my  word,”  returned  Griscelli,  grimly,  as  he  uncocked  his  pistol.  “ Yes, 
he  shall  go.” 

“Now?” 

“No.  To-night.  Meet  me,  both  of  you,  near  the  old  sugar- 
mill  on  the  savanna  when  the  moon  rises  ; and  give  him  a good 
supper,  Guzman ; he  will  need  it.” 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  AZUFERALES, 

“WHAT  is  General  Griscelli’s  game?  Does  he  really  mean  to 
let  me  go,  or  is  he  merely  playing  with  me  as  a cat  plays  with  a 
mouse  ? ” I asked  Guzman,  as  we  sat  at  supper. 

“That  is  just  the  question  I have  been  asking  myself.  I never 
knew  him  let  a prisoner  go  before,  and  I know  of  no  reason  why  he 
should  treat  you  more  leniently  than  he  treats  others.  Do  you  ? ” 

“ No.  He  is  more  likely  to  bear  me  a grudge,”  and  then  I told 
Guzman  what  had  befallen  at  Salamanca. 

“ That  makes  it  still  less  probable  that  he  will  let  you  go  away 


102 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


quietly.  Griscelli  never  forgives,  and  to-day’s  fiasco  has  put  him 
in  a devil  of  a temper.  He  is  malicious,  too.  We  have  all  to  be 
careful  not  to  offend  him,  even  in  trifles,  or  he  would  make  life  very 
unpleasant  for  us,  and  I fear  he  has  something  very  unpleasant  in 
store  for  you.  You  may  depend  upon  it  that  he  is  meditating  some 
trick.  He  is  quite  capable  of  letting  you  go  as  far  as  the  bridge,  and 
then  bringing  you  back  and  hanging  you  or  fastening  you  to  the 
tail  of  a wild  mustang  or  the  horns  of  a wild  bull.  That  also  would 
be  letting  you  go.” 

“So  it  would,  in  a fashion!  and  I should  prefer  it  to  being 
hanged.” 

“I  don’t  think  I would.  The  hanging  would  be  sooner  over  and 
far  less  painful.  And  there  are  many  other  ways — he  might  have 
your  hands  tied  behind  your  back  and  cannon-balls  fastened  to  your 
feet,  and  then  leave  you  to  your  own  devices.” 

“ That  would  not  be  so  bad.  We  should  find  some  good  soul 
to  release  us,  and  I think  I could  contrive  to  untie  Carman’s  bonds 
with  my  teeth.” 

“ Or  he  might  cut  off  your  ears  and  put  out  your  eyes — ” 

“For  Heaven’s  sake  cease  these  horrible  suggestions ! You 
make  my  blood  run  cold.  But  you  can  not  be  serious.  Is  Griscelli 
in  the  habit  of  putting  out  the  eyes  of  his  prisoners  ? ” 

“ Not  that  I am  aware  of ; but  I have  heard  him  threaten  to  do 
it,  and  known  him  to  cut  off  a rebel’s  ears  first  and  hang  him  after- 
ward. All  the  same,  I don’t  think  he  is  likely  to  treat  you  in  that 
way.  It  might  get  to  the  ears  of  the  captain-general,  and  though 
he  is  not  very  particular  where  rebels  are  concerned,  he  draws  the 
line  at  mutilation.” 

“We  shall  soon  see ; we  have  to  be  at  the  old  sugar-mill  when 
the  moon  rises,”  I said,  gloomily,  for  the  prospect  held  out  by  Guz- 
man was  anything  but  encouraging. 

“ And  that  will  be  soon.  If  I see  any  way  of  helping  you,  with- 
out compromising  myself,  I will.  Hospitality  has  its  duties,  and  I 
can  not  forget  that  you  have  fought  and  bled  for  Spain. — Have 
another  drink  ; you  don’t  know  what  is  before  you  ! And  take  this 
knife — it  will  serve  also  as  a dagger — and  this  pocket-pistol.  Put 
them  where  they  will  not  be  seen.  You  may  find  them  useful.” 

“ Gracias ! But  you  surely  don’t  think  we  shall  be  sent  adrift 
weaponless  and  on  foot  ? ” 

“ That  is  as  may  be ; but  it  is  well  to  provide  for  contingencies. 


THE  AZUFERALES.  103 

And  now  let  us  start ; nothing  irritates  Griscelli  so  much  as  having 
to  wait.” 

So,  girding  on  our  swords  (mine  had  been  restored  to  me,  “ by 
special  favor,”  when  I gave  my  parole),  we  mounted  our  horses, 
which  were  waiting  at  the  door,  and  set  out. 

The  savanna  was  a wide  stretch  of  open  ground  outside  the 
fortifications  where  reviews  were  held  and  the  troops  performed 
their  evolutions  ; it  lay  on  the  north  side  of  the  town.  Farther  on 
in  the  same  direction  was  a range  of  low  hills,  thickly  wooded  and 
ill  provided  with  roads.  The  country  to  the  east  and  west  was 
pretty  much  in  the  same  condition.  Southward  it  was  more  open, 
and  a score  of  miles  away  merged  into  the  llanos. 

“We  are.  in  good  time  ; the  moon  is  only  just  rising,  and  I don’t 
think  there  is  anybody  before  us,”  said  Guzman,  as  we  neared  the 
old  sugar-mill,  a dilapidated  wooden  building,  shaded  by  cebia- 
trees  and  sombrero  palms. 

“ But  there  is  somebody  behind  us,’  I said,  looking  back.  A 
squadron  of  cavalry  at  the  least.” 

“ Griscelli,  I suppose,  and  Carmen.  But  why  is  the  general  bring- 
ing so  many  people  with  him,  I wonder  ? And  don  t I see  dogs  ? 

“ Rather  ! A pack  of  hounds,  I should  say.” 

“ You  are  right ; they  are  Griscelli’s  blood-hounds.  Is  it  pos- 
sible that  a prisoner  or  a slave  has  escaped,  and  Griscelli  will  ask  us 
to  join  in  the  hunt  ? ” 

“ Join  in  the  hunt ! You  surely  don’t  mean  that  you  hunt  men 
in  this  country  ? ” 

“Sometimes — when  the  men  are  slaves  or  rebels.  It  is  a sport 
the  general  greatly  enjoys.  Yet  it  seems  very  strange ; at  this  time 
of  night,  too — Dios  mio  ! can  it  be  possible  ? ” 

“ Can  what  be  possible,  Captain  Guzman  ? ” I exclaimed,  in 
some  excitement,  for  a terrible  suspicion  had  crossed  my  mind. 
“ Can  what  be  possible  ? In  Heaven’s  name,  speak  out ! 

But,  instead  of  answering,  Guzman  went  forward  to  meet  Gris- 
celli. I followed  him. 

“Good-evening,  gentlemen,”  said  the  general;  “I  am  glad  you 
are  so  punctual.  I have  brought  your  friend,  Sefior  Fortescue.  As 
you  were  taken  together,  it  seems  only  right  that  you  should  be  re- 
leased together.  It  would  be  a pity  to  separate  such  good  friends. 
You  see,  I am  as  good  as  my  word.  You  don  t speak.  Are  you 
not  grateful  ? ” 


104 


MR.  FORTE  SC  UE, 


" That  depends  on  the  conditions,  general/' 

“ I make  no  conditions  whatever.  I let  you  go — neither  more 
nor  less — whither  you  will.  But  I must  warn  you  that,  twenty  min- 
utes after  you  are  gone,  I shall  lay  on  my  hounds.  If  you  outrun 
them,  well  and  good  ; if  not,  t ant  pis  pour  vous . I shall  have  kept 
my  word.  Are  you  not  grateful,  Sehor  Fortescue  ? " 

“ No ; why  should  I be  grateful  for  a death  more  terrible  than 
hanging.  Kill  us  at  once,  and  have  done  with  it.  You  are  a dis- 
grace to  the  noble  profession  of  arms,  general,  and  the  time  will 
come — ” 

“ Another  word,  and  I will  throw  you  to  the  hounds  without 
further  parley,"  broke  in  Griscelli,  savagely. 

“ Better  keep  quiet ; there  is  nothing  to  be  gained  by  roiling  him," 
whispered  Carmen. 

I took  his  advice  and  held  my  peace,  all  the  more  willingly  as 
there  was  something  in  Carmen’s  manner  which  implied  that  he 
did  not  think  our  case  quite  so  desperate  as  might  appear. 

“ Dismount  and  give  up  your  weapons,"  said  Griscelli. 

Resistance  being  out  of  the  question,  we  obeyed  with  the  best 
grace  we  could ; but  I bitterly  regretted  having  to  part  with  the 
historic  Toledo  and  my  horse  Pizarro ; he  had  carried  me  well, 
and  we  thoroughly  understood  each  other.  The  least  I could  do 
was  to  give  him  his  freedom,  and,  as  I patted  his  neck  by  way  of 
bidding  him  farewell,  I slipped  the  bit  out  of  his  mouth,  and  let 
him  go. 

“ Hallo  ! What  is  that — a horse  loose  ? Catch  him,  some  of 
you,"  shouted  Griscelli,  who  had  been  talking  with  his  huntsman 
and  Captain  Guzman,  whereupon,  two  of  the  troopers  rode  off  in 
pursuit,  a proceeding  which  made  Pizarro  gallop  all  the  faster,  and 
I knew  that,  follow  him  as  long  as  they  might,  they  would  not  over- 
take him.  x. 

Griscelli  resumed  his  conversation  with  Captain  Guzman,  an 
opportunity  by  which  I profited  to  glance  at  the  hounds,  and  though 
I was  unable  just  then  to  regard  them  with  very  kindly  feelings,  I 
could  not  help  admiring  them.  Taller  and  more  strongly  built  than 
fox-hounds,  muscular  and  broad-chested,  with  pendulous  ears  and 
upper  lips,  and  stern,  thoughtful  faces,  they  were  splendid  specimens 
of  the  canine  race ; even  sized  too,  well  under  control,  and  in  ap- 
pearance no  more  ferocious  than  other  hounds.  Why  should  they 
be  ? All  hounds  are  blood-hounds  in  a sense,  and  it  is  probably 


THE  AZUFERALES . 10$ 

indifferent  to  them  whether  they  pursue  a fox,  a deer,  or  a man  ; it 
is  entirely  a matter  of  training. 

“ I am  going  to  let  you  have  more  law  than  I mentioned  just 
now,”  said  Griscelli,  turning  to  Carmen  and  me.  “ Captain  Guzman, 
here,  and  the  huntsmen  think  twenty  minutes  would  not  give  us 
much  of  a run — these  hounds  are  very  fast — so  I shall  make  it  forty. 
But  you  must  first  submit  to  a little  operation.  Make  them  ready, 
Jos6.” 

Whereupon  one  of  the  attendants,  producing  a bottle,  smeared 
our  shoes  and  legs  with  a liquid  which  looked  like  blood,  and  was, 
no  doubt,  intended  to  insure  a good  scent  and  render  our  escape 
impossible.  While  this  was  going  on  Carmen  and  I took  off  our 
coats  and  threw  them  on  the  ground. 

“ When  I give  the  word  you  may  start,”  said  Griscelli,  “ and  forty 
minutes  afterward  the  hounds  will  be  laid  on — Now  ! ” 

“This  way!  Toward  the  hills!”  said  Carmen.  “Are  you  in 
good  condition  ? ” 

“ Never  better.” 

“We  must  make  all  the  haste  we  can,  before  the  hounds  are 
laid  on.  If  we  can  keep  this  up  we  shall  reach  the  hills  in  forty 
minutes — perhaps  less.” 

“ And  then  ? These  hounds  will  follow  us  for  ever — no  possi- 
bility of  throwing  them  out — unless — is  there  a river  ? ” 

“ None  near  enough,  still — ” 

“ You  have  hope,  then — ” 

“Just  a little — I have  an  idea — if  we  can  go  on  running  two 
hours — have  you  a flint  and  steel  ? ” 

“ Yes,  and  a loaded  pistol  and  a knife.” 

“ Good  ! That  is  better  than  I thought.  But  don’t  talk.  We 
shall  want  every  bit  of  breath  in  our  bodies  before  we  have  done. 
This  way  ! By  the  cane-piece  there  ! ” 

With  heads  erect,  arms  well  back  and  our  chests  expanded  to 
their  utmost  capacity  we  speed  silently  onward  ; and  although  we 
do  not  despair  we  realize  to  the  full  that  we  are  running  for  our  lives  ; 
grim  Death  is  on  our  track  and  only  by  God’s  help  and  good  fortune 
can  we  hope  to  escape. 

Across  the  savanna,  past  corn-fields  and  cane-pieces  we  race, 
without  pause — looking  neither  to  the  right  nor  left — until  we  reach 
the  road  leading  to  the  hills.  Here  we  stop  a few  seconds,  take  a 
few  deep  breaths,  and  then,  on  again.  So  far,  the  road  has  been 


io6 


MR.  FORTESCUE. 


tolerable,  almost  level  and  free  from  obstructions.  But  now  it  be- 
gins to  rise,  and  is  so  rugged  withal  that  we  have  to  slow  our 
speed  and  pick  our  way.  Farther  on  it  is  the  dry  bed  of  a torrent, 
cumbered  with  loose  stones  and  erratic  blocks,  among  which  we 
have  to  struggle  painfully. 

“ This  is  bad,”  gasps  Carmen,  “ The  hounds  must  be  gaining  on 
us  fast.” 

“Yes,  but  the  scent  will  be  very  catching  among  these  stones. 
They  won’t  run  fast  here.  Let  us  jump  from  block  to  block  instead 
of  walking  over  the  pebbles.  It  will  make  it  all  the  better  for  us 
and  worse  for  them.” 

On  this  suggestion  we  straightway  act,  but  we  find  the  striding 
and  jumping  so  exhausting,  and  the  risk  of  slipping  and  breaking  a 
limb  so  great,  that  we  are  presently  compelled  to  betake  ourselves 
once  more  to  the  bed  of  the  stream. 

“ Never  mind,”  says  Carmen,  “ we  shall  soon  be  out  of  this  valley 
of  stones,  and  the  hounds  will  not  find  it  easy  to  pick  up  the  scent 
hereabout.  If  we  only  keep  out  of  their  jaws  another  half-hour  ! ” 
“Of  course,  we  shall— and  more — I hope  for  ever.  We  can  go 
on  for  another  hour.  But  what  is  your  point  ? ” 

“ The  azuferales .” 

“ The  azuferales  / What  are  the  azuferales  ? ” 

" 1 can  not  explain  now.  You  will  see.  If  we  get  there  ten  or 
fifteen  minutes  before  the  hounds  we  shall  have  a good  chance  of 
escaping  them.” 

“ And  how  long  ? ” 

“ That  depends — perhaps  twenty.” 

“ Then,  in  Heaven’s  name,  lead  on.  It  is  life  or  death.  Even 
five  minutes  may  make  all  the  difference.  Which  way  ? ” 

“ By  this  trail  to  the  right,  and  through  the  forest.” 

The  trail  is  a broad  grass-grown  path,  not  unlike  a “ride”  in 
an  English  wood,  bordered  by  trees  and  thick  undergrowth,  but 
fairly  lighted  by  the  moonbeams,  and,  fortunately  for  us,  rather 
downhill,  with  no  obstacles  more  formidable  than  fallen  branches 
and  here  and  there  a prostrate  monarch  of  the  forest,  which  we 
easily  surmount. 

As  we  go  on  I notice  that  the  character  of  the  vegetation  begins 
to  change.  The  trees  are  less  leafy,  the  undergrowth  is  less  dense, 
and  a mephitic  odor  pervades  the  air.  Presently  the  foliage  disap- 
pears altogether,  and  the  trees  and  bushes  are  as  bare  as  if  they  , 


THE  AZUFERALES , 


107 


had  been  stricken  with  the  blast  of  an  Arctic  winter ; but  instead  of 
being  whitened  with  snow  or  silvered  with  frost  they  are  covered 
with  an  incrustation,  which  in  the  brilliant  moonlight  makes  them 
look  like  trees  and  bushes  of  gold.  Over  their  tops  rise  faint  wreaths 
of  yellowish  clouds,  and  the  mephitic  odor  becomes  more  pro- 
nounced, 

44  At  last ! ” shouts  Carmen,  as  we  reach  the  end  of  the  trail. 
“ At  last ! Amigo  mio,  we  are  saved  ! ” 

Before  us  stretches  a wide  treeless  waste  like  a turf  moor,  with 
a background  of  somber  forest.  The  moor,  which  is  broken  into 
humps  and  hillocks,  smokes  and  boils  and  bubbles  like  the  hell- 
broth  of  Macbeth’s  witches,  and  across  it  winds,  snake-wise,  a 
steaming  brook.  Here  and  there  is  a stagnant  pool,  and  under- 
neath can  be  heard  a dull  roar,  as  if  an  imprisoned  ocean  were 
beating  on  a pebble  strewed  shore.  There  is  an  unmistakable  smell 
of  sulphur,  and  the  ground  on  which  we  stand,  as  well  as  the  moor 
itself,  is  of  a deep-yellow  cast. 

This,  then,  is  the  azuferales — a region  of  sulphur  springs,  a 
brimstone  inferno,  a volcano  in  the  making.  No  hounds  will  follow 
us  over  that  hideous  heath  and  through  that  Stygian  stream. 

“ Can  we  get  across  and  live  ? ” I ask.  44  Will  it  bear  ? ” 

“ I think  so.  But  out  with  your  knife  and  cut  some  twigs ; and 
where  are  your  flint  and  steel  ? ” 

“ What  are  you  going  to  do  ? ” 

44  Set  the  forest  on  fire — the  wind  is  from  us — and  instead  of 
following  us  farther — and  who  knows  that  they  won’t  try  ? — instead 
of  following  us  farther  they  will  have  to  hark  back  and  run  for 
their  lives.” 

Without  another  word  we  set  to  work  gathering  twigs,  which  we 
place  among  the  trees.  Then  1 dig  up  with  my  knife  and  add  to 
the  heap  several  pieces  of  the  brimstone  impregnated  turf.  This 
done,  I strike  a light  with  my  flint  and  steel. 

4<  Good  ! ” exclaims  Carmen.  44  In  five  minutes  it  will  be  ablaze  ; 
in  ten,  a brisk  fire  ” ; and  with  that  we  throw  on  more  turf  and  sev- 
eral heavy  branches  which,  for  the  moment,  almost  smother  it  up. 

44  Never  mind,  it  still  burns,  and — hark  ! What  is  that  ? ” 

“ The  baying  of  the  hounds  and  the  cries  of  the  hunters. 
They  are  nearer  than  I thought.  To  the  azuferales  for  our 
lives ! ” 

The  moor,  albeit  in  some  places  yielding  and  in  others  treacher- 


io8 


MR.  FOR  FESCUE . 


ous,  did  not,  as  I feared  prove  impassable.  By  threading  our  way 
between  the  smoking  sulphur  heaps  and  carefully  avoiding  the 
boiling  springs  we  found  it  possible  to  get  on,  yet  slowly  and  with 
great  difficulty ; and  it  soon  became  evident  that,  long  before  we  I 
gain  the  forest  the  hounds  will  be  on  the  moor.  Their  deep-throated  f 
baying  and  the  shouts  of  the  field  grow  every  moment  louder  and 
more  distinct.  If  we  are  viewed  we  shall  be  lost ; for  if  the  blood-  ? ! 
hounds  catch  sight  of  us  not  even  the  terrors  of  the  azuferales  will  i 
balk  them  of  their  prey.  And  to  our  dismay  the  fire  does  not  $ 
seem  to  be  taking  hold.  We  can  see  nothing  of  it  but  a few  faint  v ,! 
sparks  gleaming  among  the  bushes. 

But  where  can  we  hide  ? The  moor  is  flat  and  treeless,  the  I 
forest  two  or  three  miles  away  in  a straight  line,  and  we  can  go  I 
neither  straight  nor  fast.  If  we  cower  behind  one  of  the  smoking  I 
brimstone  mounds  we  shall  be  stifled;  if  we  jump  into  one  of  the 
boiling  springs  we  shall  be  scalded. 

“ Where  can  we  hide  ? ” I ask. 

“ Where  can  we  hide  ? ” repeated  Carmen. 

“ That  P°o1  -f  Don’t  you  see  that,  a little  farther  on,  the  brook 
forms  a pool,  and  though  it  smokes,  I don’t  think  it  is  very  hot.” 

It  is  just  the  place,  and  with  that  Carmen  runs  forward  and 
plunges  in. 

I follow  him,  first  taking  the  precaution  to  lay  my  pistol  and 
knife  on  the  edge.  The  water,  though  warm,  is  not  uncomfortably 
hot,  and  when  we  sit  down  our  heads  are  just  out  of  the  water. 

We  are  only  just  in  time.  Two  minutes  later  the  hounds,  with 
a great  crash,  burst,  out  of  the  forest,  followed  at  a short  interval  by 
half  a dozen  horsemen. 

“ Curse  this  brimstone  ! It  has  ruined  the  scent,”  I heard  Gris- 
celli  say,  as  the  hounds  threw  up  their  heads  and  came  to  a dead 
stop.  “ If  I had  thought  those  ladrones  would  run  hither  I would 
not  have  given  them  twenty  minutes,  much  less  forty.  But  they 
can  not  be  far  off ; depend  upon  it,  they  are  hiding  somewhere.— 
Por  Dios,. , Sheba  has  it ! Good  dog ! Hark  to  Sheba ! Forward, 
forward ! ” 

It  was  true.  One  of  the  hounds  had  hit  off  the  line,  then  fol- 
lowed another  and  another,  and  soon  the  entire  pack  were  once 
more  in  full  cry.  But  the  scent  was  very  bad,  and  seemed  to  grow 
worse ; there  was  a check  every  few  yards,  and  when  they  got  to 
the  brook  (which  had  as  many  turns  and  twists  as  a coiled  rope), 


THE  A Z UFERA  LES. 


ICQ 

they  were  completely  at  fault.  Nevertheless,  they  persevered, 
questing  about  all  over  the  moor,  except  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
sulphur  mounds  and  the  springs. 

While  this  was  going  on  the  horsemen  had  tethered  their  steeds 
and  were  following  on  foot,  riding  over  the  azuferales  being  mani- 
festly out  of  the  question.  Once  Griscelli  and  Sheba,  who  ap- 
peared to  be  queen  of  the  pack,  came  so  near  the  pool  that  if  we 
had  not  promptly  lowered  our  heads  to  the  level  of  the  water  they 
would  certainly  have  seen  us. 

“ I am  afraid  they  have  given  us  the  slip/’  I heard  Griscelli  say. 
“ There  is  not  a particle  of  scent.  But  if  they  have  not  fallen  into 
one  of  those  springs  and  got  boiled,  I’ll  have  them  yet — even  though 
I stop  all  night,  or  come  again  to-morrow.” 

“Mira!  Mira!  General,  the  forest  is  on  fire!”  shouted 
somebody.  “ And  the  horses — see,  they  are  trying  to  get  loose ! ” 

Then  followed  curses  and  cries  of  dismay,  the  huntsman  sounded 
his  horn  to  call  off  the  hounds,  and  Carmen  and  I,  raising  our 
heads,  saw  a sight  that  made  us  almost  shout  for  joy. 

The  fire,  which  all  this  time  must  have  been  smoldering  un- 
seen, had  burst  into  a great  blaze,  trees  and  bushes  were  wrapped 
in  sulphurous  flames,  which,  fanned  by  the  breeze,  were  spreading 
rapidly.  The  very  turf  was  aglow ; two  of  the  horses  had  broken 
loose  and  were  careering  madly  about ; the  others  were  tugging 
wildly  at  their  lariats. 

Meanwhile  Griscelli  and  his  companions,  followed  by  the  hounds, 
were  making  desperate  haste  to  get  back  to  the  trail  and  reach  the 
valley  of  stones.  But  the  road  was  rough,  and  in  attempting  to 
take  short  cuts  several  of  them  came  to  grief.  Two  fell  into  a deep 
pool  and  had  to  be  fished  out.  Griscelli  put  his  foot  into  one  of 
the  boiling  springs,  and,  judging  from  the  loud  outcry  he  made,  got 
badly  scalded. 

By  the  time  the  hunters  were  clear  of  the  moor  the  loose  horses 
had  disappeared  in  the  forest,  and  the  trees  on  either  side  of  the 
trail  were  festooned  with  flames.  Then  there  was  mounting  in  hot 
haste,  and  the  riders,  led  by  Griscelli  (the  two  dismounted  men 
holding  on  to  their  stirrup  leathers),  and  followed  by  the  howling 
and  terrified  hounds,  tore  off  at  the  top  of  their  speed. 

“ They  are  gone,  and  I don’t  think  they  will  be  in  any  hurry  to 
come  back,”  said  Carman,  as  he  scrambled  out  of  the  pool.  “ It 
was  a narrow  shave,  though.” 


no 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


“ Very,  and  we  are  not  out  of  the  wood  yet.  Suppose  the  fire 
sweeps  round  the  moor  and  gains  the  forest  on  the  other  side  ? ” 

“ In  that  case  we  stand  a very  good  chance  of  being  either 
roasted  or  starved,  for  we  have  no  food,  and  there  is  not  a living 
thing  on  the  moor  but  ourselves.” 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A TIMELY  WARNING. 

The  involuntary  bath  which  saved  our  lives  served  also  to  restore 
our  strength.  When  we  entered  it  we  were  well-nigh  spent ; we 
went  out  of  it  free  from  any  sense  of  fatigue,  a result  which  was 
probably  as  much  due  to  the  chemical  properties  of  the  water  as  to 
its  high  temperature. 

But  though  no  longer  tired  we  were  both  hungry  and  thirsty, 
and  our  garments  were  wringing  wet.  Our  first  proceeding  was  to 
take  them  off  and  wring  them  ; our  next,  to  look  for  fresh  water — 
for  the  azuferales  was  like'  the  ocean-water,  water  everwhere  and 
not  a drop  to  drink. 

As  we  picked  our  way  over  the  smoking  waste  by  the  light  of 
the  full  moon  and  the  burning  forest,  I asked  Carmen,  who  knew 
the  country  and  its  ways  so  much  better  than  myself,  what  he  pro- 
posed that  we  should  do  next. 

“ Rejoin  Mejia.” 

“ But  how?  We  are  in  the  enemies'  country  and  without 
horses,  and  we  know  not  where  Mejia  is.” 

“ I don  t think  he  is  far  off.  He  is  not  the  man  to  retreat  after 
a drawn  battle.  Until  he  has  beaten  Grisceili  or  Griscelli  has  beaten 
him,  you  may  be  sure  he  won’t  go  back  to  the  llanos  ; his  men  would 
not  let  him.  As  for  horses,  we  must  appropriate  the  first  we  come 
across,  either  by  stratagem  or  force.” 

“ Is  there  a way  out  of  the  forest  on  this  side  ? ” 

“ Yes,  there  is  a good  trail  made  by  Indian  invalids  who  come 
here  to  drink  the  waters.  Our  difficulty  will  not  be  so  much  in 
nading  our  friends  as  avoiding  our  enemies.  A few  hours’ walk 
will  bring  us  to  more  open  country,  but  we  can  not  well  start 
until — ” 


-A  TIMELY  WARNING. 


Ill 


iS  Good  heavens  ! What  is  that  ? ” I exclaimed,  as  a plaintive 
cry,  which  ended  in  a wail  of  anguish,  such  as  might  be  given  by  a 
lost  soul  in  torment,  rang  through  the  forest. 

Its  an  araguato , a howling  monkey,’’  said  Carmen,  indiffer- 
ently. “ That’s  only  some  old  fellow  setting  the  tune ; we  shall 
have  a regular  chorus  presently.” 

And  so  we  had.  The  first  howl  was  followed  by  a second,  then 
by  a third,  and  a fourth,  and  soon  all  the  araguatoes  in  the  neigh- 
borhood joined  in,  and  the  din  became  so  agonizing  that  I was 
fain  to  put  my  fingers  in  my  ears  and  wait  for  a lull. 

“ ^ sounds  dismal  enough,  in  all  conscience — to  us ; but  I think 
they  mean  it  for  a cry  of  joy,  a sort  of  morning  hymn  ; at  any  rate, 
they  don  t generally  begin  until  sunrise.  But  these  are  perhaps  mis- 
taking the  fire  for  the  sun.” 

And  no  wonder.  It  was  spreading  rapidly.  The  leafless  trees 
that  bordered  the  western  side  of  the  azuferales  were  all  alight ; 
sparks,  carried  by  the  wind,  had  kindled  several  giants  of  the  forest, 
which,  tall  as  mast  of  some  high  amiral,”  were  flaunting  their  flar- 
ing banners  a hundred  feet  above  the  mass  of  the  fire. 

It  was  the  most  magnificent  spectacle  I had  ever  seen,  so  mag- 
nificent that  in  watching  it  we  forgot  our  own  danger,  as,  if  the  fire 
continued  to  spread,  the  forest  would  be  impassable  for  days,  and 
we  should  be  imprisoned  on  the  azuferales  without  either  food  or 
fresh  water. 

“ Look  yonder ! ” said  Carmen,  laying  his  hand  on  my  shoulder. 
A herd  of  deer  were  breaking  out  of  the  thicket  and  bounding  across 
the  moor. 

“ Wild  animals  escaping  from  the  fire  ? ” 

“ Yes,  and  we  shall  have  more  of  them.” 

The  words  were  scarcely  spoken  when  the  deer  were  followed 
by  a drove  of  peccaries ; then  came  jaguars,  pumas,  antelopes,  and 
monkeys ; panthers  and  wolves  and  snakes,  great  and  small,  wrig- 
gling over  the  ground  with  wondrous  speed,  and  creatures  the  like 
of  which  I had  never  seen  before— a regular  stampede  of  all  sorts 
and  conditions  of  reptiles  and  beasts,  and  all  too  much  frightened 
to  meddle  either  with  us  or  each  other. 

Fortunately  for  us,  moreover,  we  were  not  in  their  line  of  march, 
and  there  lay  between  us  and  them  a line  of  hot  springs  and  smok- 
ing sulphur  mounds  which  they  were  not  likely  to  pass. 

The  procession  had  been  going  on  about  half  an  hour  when, 


112 


MR.  FORTE  SCUF. 


happening  to  cast  my  eye  skyward,  I saw  that  the  moon  had  dis- 
appeared ; overhead  hung  a heavy  mass  of  cloud,  the  middle  of  it 
reddened  by  the  reflection  from  the  fire  to  the  color  of  blood,  while 
the  outer  edges  were  as  black  as  ink.  It  was  almost  as  grand  a 
spectacle  as  the  burning  forest  itself. 

“ We  are  going  to  have  rain,”  said  Carmen. 

“ I hope  it  will  rain  in  bucketfuls,”  was  my  an*  er,  for  I had 
drunk  nothing  since  we  left  San  Felipe,  and  the  run,  together  with 
the  high  temperature  and  the  heat  of  the  fire,  had  given  me  an  in- 
tolerable thirst.  I spoke  with  difficulty,  my  swollen  tongue  clove  to 
the  roof  of  my  mouth,  and  I would  gladly  have  given  ten  years  of 
my  life  for  one  glass  of  cold  water. 

Carmen,  whose  sufferings  were  as  great  as  my  own,  echoed  my 
hope.  And  it  was  not  long  in  being  gratified,  for  even  as  we  gazed 
upward  a flash  of  lightning  split  the  clouds  asunder ; peal  of  thunder 
followed  on  peal,  the  rain  came  down  not  in  drops  nor  bucketfuls 
but  in  sheets,  and  with  weight  and  force  sufficient  to  beat  a child  or 
a weakling  to  the  earth.  It  was  a veritable  godsend ; we  caught 
the  beautiful  cool  water  in  our  hands  and  drank  our  fill. 

In  less  than  an  hour  not  a trace  of  the  fire  could  be  seen— nor 
anything  else.  The  darkness  had  become  so  dense  that  we  feared 
to  move  lest  we  might  perchance  step  into  one  of  the  boiling  springs, 
fall  into  the  jaws  of  a jaguar,  or  set  foot  on  a poisonous  snake.  So 
we  stayed  where  we  were,  whiles  lying  on  the  flooded  ground,  whiles 
standing  up  or  walking  a few  paces  in  the  rain,  which  continued  to 
fall  until  the  rising  of  the  sun,  when  it  ceased  as  suddenly  as  it  had 
begun. 

The  moor  had  been  turned  into  a smoking  swamp,  with  a 
blackened  forest  on  one  side  and  a wall  of  living  green  on  the  other. 
The  wild  animals  had  vanished. 

“ Let  us  go  ! ” said  Carmen. 

When  we  reached  the  trees  we  took  off  our  clothes  a second 
time,  hung  them  on  a branch,  and  sat  in  the  sun  till  they  dried. 

“ I suppose  it  is  no  use  thinking  about  breakfast  till  we  get  to  a 
house  or  the  camp,  wherever  that  may  be  ? ” I observed,  as  we  re- 
sumed our  journey. 

“ Well,  I don’t  know.  What  do  you  say  about  a cup  of  milk  to 
begin  with  ? ” 

“There  is  nothing  I should -like  better— -to  begin  with — but 
where  is  the  cow  ? ” 


A TIMELY  WARNING. 


1X3 


“ There  ! ” pointing  to  a fine  tree  with  oblong  leaves. 

" That ! ” 

u Yes,  that  is  the  ftalo  de  vaca  (cow-tree),  and  as  you  shall  pres- 
ently see,  it  will  give  us  a very  good  breakfast,  though  we  may  get 
nothing  else.  But  we  shall  want  cups.  Ah,  there  is  a calabash- 
tree  ! Lend  me  your  knife  a minute.  Gracias  ! ” 

And  with  chat  Carmen  went  to  the  tree,  from  which  he  cut  a 
large  pear-shaped  fruit.  This,  by  slicing  off  the  top  and  scooping 
out  the  pulp  he  converted  into  a large  bowl.  The  next  thing  was 
to  make  a gash  in  the  palo  de  vaca,  whereupon  there  flowed  from 
the-  wound  a thick  milky  fluid  which  we  caught  in  the  bowl  and 
drank.  The  taste  was  agreeable  and  the  result  satisfactory,  for, 
though  a beefsteak  would  have  been  more  acceptable,  the  drink 
stayed  our  hunger  for  the  time  and  helped  us  on  our  way. 

The  trail  was  easily  found.  For  a considerable  distance  it  ran 
between  a double  row  of  magnificent  mimosa-trees  which  met  over- 
head at  a height  of  fully  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet,  making  a glori- 
ous tanopy  of  green  leaves  and  rustling  branches.  The  rain  had 
cooled  the  air  and  laid  the  dust,  and  but  for  the  danger  we  were  in 
(greater  than  we  suspected)  and  the  necessity  we  were  under  of  be- 
ing continually  on  the  alert,  we  should  have  had  a most  enjoyable 
walk.  Late  in  the  afternoon  we  passed  a hut  and  a maize-field,  the 
first  sign  of  cultivation  we  had  seen  since  leaving  the  azuferales, 
and  ascertained  our  bearings  from  an  old  peon  who  was  swinging 
in  a grass  hammock  and  smoking  a cigar.  San  Felipe  was  about 
two  leagues  away,  and  he  strongly  advised  us  not  to  follow  a cer- 
tain trail,  which  he  described,  lest  haply  we  might  fall  in  with 
Mejia  s caballeros,  some  of  whom  he  had  himself  seen  within  the 
hour  a little  lower  down  the  valley. 

This  was  good  news,  and  we  went  on  in  high  spirits. 

“ Didn’t  I tell  you  so  ? ” said  Carmen,  complacently.  “ I knew 
Mejia  would  not  be  far  off.  He  is  like  one  of  your  English  bull- 
dogs. He  never  knows  when  he  is  beaten.” 

After  a while  the  country  became  more  open,  with  here  and 
there  patches  of  cultivation  ; huts  were  more  frequent  and  we  met 
several  groups  of  peons  who,  however,  eyed  us  so  suspiciously  that 
we  thought  it  inexpedient  to  ask  them  any  questions. 

About  an  hour  before  sunset  we  perceived  in  the  near  distance 
a solitary  horseman ; but  as  his  face  was  turned  the  other  way  he 
did  not  see  us, 

8 


H4 


MR.  FORTESCVE. 


“ He  looks  like  one  of  our  fellows,”  observed  Carmen,  after  scan- 
ning him  closely.  “ All  the  same,  he  may  not  be.  Let  us  slip  be- 
hind this  acacia-bush  and  watch  his  movements.” 

The  man  himself  seemed  to  be  watching.  After  a short  halt,  he 
rode  away  and  returned,  but  whether  halting  or  moving  he  was 
always  on  the  lookout,  and  as  might  appear,  keenly  expectant. 

At  length  he  came  our  way. 

“ I do  believe — Por  Dios  it  is — Guido  Pasto,  my  own  man  ! and 
Carmen,  greatly  excited,  rushed  from  his  hiding-place  shouting, 

“ Guido  ! ” at  the  top  of  his  voice. 

I followed  him,  equally  excited  but  less  boisterous. 

Guido,  recognizing  his  masters  voice,  galloped  forward  and 
greeted  us  warmly,  for  though  he  acted  as  Carmen’s  servant  he  was 
a free  llanero, , and  expected  to  be  treated  as  a gentleman  and  a 
friend. 

“ Gracias  a Dios  ! ” he  said  ; “ I was  beginning  to  fear  that  we 
had  passed  you.  Gahra  and  I have  been  looking  for  you  all  day  ! ” 

“That  was  very  good  of  you  ; and  Sefior  Fortescue  and  I owe 
you  a thousand  thanks.  But  where  are  General  Mejia  and  the 
army  ? ” 

“ Near  the  old  place.  In  a better  position,  though.  But  you 
must  not  go  there — neither  of  you. 

“We  must  not  go  there  ! But  why  ? 

“ Because  if  you  do  the  general  will  hang  you.” 

“ Hang  us  ! Hang  Sefior  Fortescue,  who  has  come  all  the  way 
from  England  to  help  us  ! Hang  me. , Salvador  Carmen  ! You  have 
had  a sunstroke  and  lost  your  wits  ; that’s  what  it  is,  Guido  Pasto, 
you  have  lost  your  wits— but,  perhaps  you  are  joking.  Say,  now, 

you  are  joking.”  ^ 

“ No,  sefior.  It  would  ill  become  me  to  make  a foolish  joke  at 
your  expense.  Neither  have  I lost  my  wits,  as  you  are  pleased  to 
suggest.  It  is  only  too  true  ; you  are  in  deadly  peril.  We  may  be 
observed,  even  now.  Let  us  go  behind  these  bushes,  where  \\e 
may  converse  in  safety.  It  was  to  warn  you  of  your  danger  that 
Gahra  and  I have  been  watching  for  you.  Gahra  will  be  here  pres- 
ently, and  he  will  tell  you  that  what  I say  is  true. 

“ This  passes  comprehension.  What  does  it  all  mean  ? Out 
with  it,  good  Guido;  you  have  always  been  faithful,  and  I dont 

think  you  are  a fool.”  _ 

“Thanks  for  your  good  opinion,  sefior.  Well,  it  is  very  painful 


A TIMELY  WARMING. 


for  me  to  have  to  say  it ; but  the  general  believes,  and  save  your 
own  personal  friends,  all  the  army  believes,  that  you  and  Senor 
Fortescue  are  traitors— that  you  betrayed  them  to  the  enemy.” 

“ On  what  grounds  ? ” asked  Carmen,  highly  indignant. 

“ You  went  to  reconnoiter ; you  did  not  comeback;  the  next 
morning  we  were  attacked  byGriscelli  in  force,  and  Senor  Fortescue 
was  seen  among  the  enemy,  seen  by  General  Mejia  himself.  It  was, 
moreover,  reported  this  morning  in  the  camp  that  Griscelli  had  let 
you  go.” 

“ So  he  did,  and  hunted  us  with  his  infernal  blood-hounds,  and 
we  only  escaped  by  the  skin  of  our  teeth.  We  were  surprised  and 
taken  prisoners.  Senor  Fortescue  was  a prisoner  on  parole  when 
the  general  saw  him.  I believe  Griscelli  obtained  his  parole  and 
took  him  to  the  quebrada  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  compromise 
him  with  the  patriots.  And  that  I,  who  have  killed  more  than  a 
hundred  Spaniards  with  my  own  hand,  should  be  suspected  of 
deserting  to  the  enemy,  is  too  monstrous  for  belief.” 

“ Of  course,  it  is  an  absurd  mistake.  Appearances  are  certainly 
rather  against  us — at  any  rate,  against  me  ; but  a word  of  explana- 
tion will  put  the  matter  right.  Let  us  go  to  the  camp  at  once  and 
have  it  out.” 

“Not  so  fast,  Senor  Fortescue.  I should  like  to  have  it  out 
much.  But  there  is  one  little  difficulty  in  the  way  which  you  may 
not  have  taken  into  account.  Mejia  never  listens  to  explanations, 
and  never  goes  back  on  his  word.  If  he  said  he  would  hang  us,  he 
will.  He  would  be  very  sorry  afterward,  I have  no  doubt ; but  that 
would  not  bring  us  back  to  life,  and  it  would  be  rather  ridiculous  to 
escape  Griscelli  s blood-hounds,  only  to  be  hanged  by  our  own 
people.” 

“ And  that  is  not  the  worst,”  put  in  Guido. 

“ Not  the  worst ! Why  what  can  be  worse  than  being  hanged  ? ” 

“ I mean  that  even  if  the  general  did  not  carry  out  his  threat  you 
would  be  killed  all  the  same.  The  Colombian  gauchos  swear  that 
they  will  hack  you  to  pieces  wherever  they  find  you.  When  Gahra 
comes  he  will  tell  you  the  same.” 

You  have  heard,  what  do  you  say?  ” asked  Carmen,  turning  to 

me. 

“ Well,  as  it  seems  so  certain  that  if  we  return  to  the  camp  we 
shad  either  be  hanged  or  hacked  to  pieces,  I am  decidedly  of  opin- 
ion that  we  had  better  not  return.” 


MR.  FORTE  SC  VE. 


II 5 

“ So  am  I.  At  the  same  time,  it  is  quite  evident  that  we  can  not 
remain  here,  while  every  man’s  hand  is  against  us.  Is  there  any 
possibility  of  procuring  horses,  Guido  ? ” 

“ Yes  sir.  I think  Gahra  and  I will  be  able  to  bring  you  horses 
and  arms  after  nightfall.” 

“ Good  ! And  will  Gahra  and  you  throw  in  your  lot  with  us  ? ” 

“ Where  you  go  I will  go  senor.  Let  Gahra  speak  for  himself. 
He  will  be  here,  shortly.  He  is  coming  now.  I will  show  myself 
that  he  may  know  we  are  here  ” (stepping  out  of  the  thicket). 

When  the  negro  arrived  he  expressed  great  satisfaction  at  find- 
ing us  alive  and  well.  He  did  not  think  there  would  be  any  great 
difficulty  in  getting  away  and  bringingus  horses.  The  lleranos  were 
still  allowed  to  come  and  go  pretty  much  as  they  liked,  and  if  awk- 
ward questions  were  asked  it  would  be  easy  to  invent  excuses.  The 
best  time  to  get  away  would  be  immediately  after  nightfall,  when 
most  of  the  foraging  parties  would  have  returned  to  camp  and  the 
men  be  at  supper. 

It  was  thereupon  agreed  that  the  attempt  should  be  made,  and 
that  we  should  stay  where  we  were  until  we  heard  the  howl  of  an 
ar aguato,  which  Guido  could  imitate  to  perfection.  This  would  sig- 
nify that  all  was  well,  and  the  coast  clear. 

Then,  after  giving  us  a few  pieces  of  tasajo  and  a handful  of 
cigars,  the  two  men  rode  off ; for  night  was  at  hand,  and  if  we  did 
not  escape  before  light  of  moon,  the  chances  were  very  much 
against  our  escaping  at  all. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A NEW  DEPARTURE. 

“We  seem  always  to  be  escaping,  amigo  mio ,”  said  Carmen,  as 
we  sat  in  the  shade,  eating  our  tasajo.  “ W e got  out  of  one  scrape 
only  to  get  into  another.  Your  experience  of  the  country  so  far  has 
not  been  happy.” 

“Well,  I certainly  have  had  rather  a lively  time  of  it  since  I 
landed  at  La  Guayra,  if  that  is  what  you  mean.” 

“ Very.  And  I should  almost  advise  you  to  leave  the  country, 
if  that  were  possible.  But  reaching  the  coast  in  present  circum- 


A NEW  DEPARTURE. 


ii  7 

stances  is  out  of  the  question.  All  the  ports  are  in  possession  of 
the  Spaniards,  and  the  roads  thither  beset  by  guerillas.  I see 
nothing  for  it  but  to  go  on  the  llanos  and  form  a guerilla  band  of 
our  own.” 

“ Isn’t  guerilla  merely  another  name  for  brigand  ? ” 

“ Too  often.  You  must  promise  the  fellows  plunder.” 

“ And  provide  it.” 

“ Of  course,  or  pay  them  out  of  your  own  pocket.” 

"•Well,  I am  not  disposed  to  become  a brigand  chief;  and  I 
could  not  keep  a band  of  guerillas  at  my  own  charge  even  if  I 
were  disposed.  As  we  can  not  get  out  of  the  country  either  by  the 
north  or  east,  what  do  you  say  to  trying  south  ? ” 

“ How  far  ? To  the  Brazils  ? ” 

“ Farther.  Over  the  Andes  to  Peru.” 

“ Over  the  Andes  to  Peru  ? That  is  a big  undertaking.  Do 
you  think  we  could  find  that  mountain  of  gold  and  precious  stones 
you  were  telling  me  about  ? ” 

“ I never  entertained  any  idea  so  absurd.  I merely  mentioned 
poor  old  Zamorra’s  crank  as  an  instance  of  how  credulous  people 
could  be.” 

"Well,  perhaps  the  idea  is  not  quite  so  absurd  as  you  suppose. 
Even  stranger  things  have  happened  ; and  we  do  know  that  there  is 
gold  pretty  nearly  everywhere  on  this  continent,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  treasure  hidden  in  times  past  by  Indians  and  Spaniards,  and 
we  might  find  both  gold  and  diamonds.” 

“ Of  course  we  might ; and  as  we  can  not  stay  here,  we  may  as 
well  make  the  attempt.” 

"You  are  not  forgetting  that  it  will  be  very  dangerous  ? We 
shall  carry  our  lives  in  our  hands.” 

“ That  will  be  nothing  new  ; I have  carried  my  life  in  my  hands 
ever  since  I came  to  Venezuela.” 

"True,  and  if  you  are  prepared  to  encounter  the  risk  and  the 
hardship—  As  for  myself,  I must  confess  that  the  idea  pleases 
me.  But  have  you  any  money  ? We  shall  have  to  equip  our  expe- 
dition. If  there  are  only  four  of  us  we  shall  not  get  beyond  the  Rio 
Negro.  The  Indians  of  that  region  are  as  fierce  as  alligators.” 

" I have  a few  maracotes  in  the  waistband  of  my  trousers  and 
this  ring.” 

" That  ring  is  worth  nothing,  my  friend  ; at  any  rate  not  more 
than  a few  reals.” 


ii8 


MR,  FORTE SCUE. 

“ A few  reals!  It  contains  a ruby,  though  you  don’t  see  it, 
worth  fully  five  hundred  piasters— if  I could  find  a customer  for  it.” 

“ I don’t  think  you  will  easily  find  a customer  for  a ruby  ring  on 
the  llanos.  However,  I’ll  tell  you  what.  An  old  friend  of  mine,  a 
certain  Senor  Morillones,  has  a large  estate  at  a place  called  Napa- 
rima,  on  the  Apure.  Let  us  go  there  to  begin  with.  Morillones 
will  supply  us  with  mules,  and  we  may  possibly  persuade  some  of 
his  people  to  accompany  us.  Treasure-hunting  is  always  an  attrac- 
tion for  the  adventurous.  What  say  you  ? ” 

“ Yes.  By  all  means  let  us  go.” 

“ We  may  regard  it  as  settled,  then,  that  we  make  in  the  first 
instance  for  Naparima.” 

“ Certainly.” 

« That  being  the  case  the  best  thing  we  can  do  is  to  have  a 
sleep.  We  got  none  last  night,  and  we  are  not  likely  to  get  any 
to-night.” 

As  Carmen  spoke  he  folded  his  arms  and  shut  his  eyes.  I fol- 
lowed his  example,  and  we  knew  no  more  until,  as  it  seemed  in 
about  five  minutes,  we  were  roused  by  a terrific  howl. 

We  jumped  up  at  once  and  ran  out  of  the  thicket.  Gahra  and 
Guido  were  waiting  for  us,  each  with  a led  horse. 

“ We  were  beginning  to  think  you  had  been  taken,  or  gone 
away,”  said  Guido,  hoarsely.  “ I have  howled  six  times  in  succes- 
sion. My  voice  will  be  quite  ruined.” 

“ It  did  not  sound  so  just  now.  We  were  fast  asleep.” 

“ Pizarro ! ” I exclaimed,  greatly  delighted  by  the  sight  of  my 
old  favorite.  “ You  have  brought  Pizarro  ! How  did  you  manage 
that,  Gahra  ? ” 

“ He  came  to  the  camp  last  night.  But  mount  at  once,  senor. 
We  got  away  without  difficulty— stole  off  while  the  men  were  at 
supper.  But  we  met  an  officer  who  asked  us  a question;  and 
though  Guido  said  we  were  taking  the  horses  by  order  of  General 
Mejia  himself,  he  did  not  appear  at  all  satisfied,  and  if  he  should 
speak  to  the  general  something  might  happen,  especially  as  it  is  not 
long  since  we  left  the  camp,  and  we  have  been  waiting  here  ten 
minutes.  Here  is  a spear  for  you,  and  the  pistols  in  your  holsters 
are  loaded  and  primed.” 

I mounted  without  asking  any  more  questions.  Gahra’s  news 
was  disquieting,  and  we  had  no  time  to  lose ; for,  in  order  to  reach 
the  llanos  without  the  almost  certainty  of  falling  into  the  hands  of 


A NEW  DEPARTURE. 


119 

our  friend  Griscelli,  we  should  have  to  pass  within  a mile  of  the 
patriot  camp,  and  if  an  alarm  were  given,  our  retreat  might  be  cut 
off.  This,  however,  seemed  to  be  our  only  danger;  our  horses 
were  fleet  and  fresh,  and  the  llanos  near,  and,  once  fairly  away,  we 
might  bid  defiance  to  pursuit. 

“ Let  us  push  on,”  said  Carmen.  “ If  anybody  accosts  us  don’t 
answer  a word,  and  fight  only  at  the  last  extremity,  to  save  our- 
selves from  capture  or  death ; and,  above  all  things,  silence  in  the 
ranks.” 

The  night  was  clear,  the  sky  studded  with  stars,  and,  except 
where  trees  overhung  the . road,  we  could  see  some  little  distance 
ahead,  the  only  direction  in  which  we  had  reason  to  apprehend 
danger. 

Carmen  and  I rode  in  front ; Gahra  and  Guido  a few  yards  in 
the  rear. 

We  had  not  been  under  way  more  than  a few  minutes  when 
Gahra  uttered  an  exclamation. 

“ Hist,  senores ! Look  behind  ! ” he  said. 

Turning  half  round  in  our  saddles  and  peering  intently  into  the 
gloom  we  could  just  make  out  what  seemed  like  a body  of  horse- 
men, riding  swiftly  after  us. 

“ Probably  a belated  foraging  party  returning  to  camp,”  said 
Carmen.  “ Deucedly  awkward,  though  ! But  they  have,  perhaps, 
no  desire  to  overtake  us.  Let  us  go  on  just  fast  enough  to  keep 
them  at  a respectful  distance.” 

But  it  very  soon  became  evident  that  the  foraging  party — if  it 
were  a foraging  party — did  desire  to  overtake  us.  They  put  on 
more  speed;  so  did  we.  Then  came  loud  shouts  of  “ Halte!" 
These  producing  no  effect,  several  pistol-shots  were  fired. 

“ Dios  mio!  ” said  Carmen;  “they  will  rouse  the  camp,  and 
the  road  will  be  barred.  Look  here,  Fortescue ; about  two  miles 
farther  on  is  an  open  glade  which  we  have  to  cross,  and  which  the 
fellows  must  also  cross  if  they  either  meet  or  intercept  us.  The 
trail  to  the  left  leads  to  the  llanos.  It  runs  between  high  banks, 
and  is  so  narrow  that  one  resolute  man  may  stop  a dozen.  If  any 
of  the  gauchos  get  there  before  us  we  are  lost.  Your  horse  is  the 
fleetest.  Ride  as  for  your  life,  and  hold  it  till  we  come.” 

Before  the  words  were  well  out  of  Carmen’s  mouth  I let  Pizarro 
go.  He  went  like  the  wind.  In  six  minutes  I had  reached  my 
point  and  taken  post  in  the  throat  of  the  pass,  well  in  the  shade. 


120 


MR.  FORTE SCUE. 


And  I was  none  too  soon,  for,  almost  at  the  same  instant,  three 
Uaneros  dashed  into  the  clearing,  and  then,  as  if  uncertain  what  to 
do  next,  pulled  up  short. 

“ Whereabout  was  it  ? What  trail  shall  we  take  ? ” asked  one. 

“ This  ” (pointing  to  the  road  I had  just  quitted). 

“ Don’t  you  hear  the  shouts  ? — and  there  goes  another  pistol- 
shot  ! ” 

“ Better  divide,”  said  another.  “ I will  stay  here  and  watch. 
You,  Jose,  go  forward,  and  you,  Sanchez,  reconnoitre  the  llanos 
trail.” 

Jose  went  his  way,  Sanchez  came  my  way. 

Still  in  the  shade  and  hidden,  I drew  one  of  my  pistols  and 
cocked  it,  fully  intending,  however,  to  reserve  my  fire  till  the  last 
moment ; I was  loath  to  shoot  a man  with  whom  I had  served  only 
a few  days  before.  But  when  he  drew  near  and,  shouting  my 
name,  lowered  his  lance,  I had  no  alternative  ; I fired,  and  as  he 
fell  from  his  horse,  the  others  galloped  into  the  glade. 

“Forward!  To  the  llanos!”  cried  Carmen ; “they  are  close 
behind  us.  A fellow  tried  to  stop  me,  but  I rode  him  down.” 

And  then  followed  a neck-or-nothing  race  through  the  pass, 
which  was  more  like  a furrow  than  a road,  steep,  stony,  and  full  of 
holes,  and  being  overshadowed  by  trees,  as  dark  as  chaos.  Only 
by  the  marvelous  cleverness  of  our  unshod  horses  and  almost 
miraculous  good  luck  did  we  escape  dire  disaster,  if  not  utter  de- 
struction, for  a single  stumble  might  have  been  fatal. 

But  Carmen,  who  made  the  running,  knew  what  he  was  about. 
His  seeming  rashness  was  the  truest  prudence.  Our  pursuers 
would  either  ride  as  hard  as  we  did  or  they  would  not ; in  the  latter 
event  we  should  have  a good  start  and  be  beyond  their  ken  before 
they  emerged  from  the  pass ; in  the  former,  there  was  always  the 
off  chance  of  one  of  the  leading  horsemen  coming  to  grief  and  some 
of  the  others  falling  over  him,  thereby  delaying  them  past  the  pos- 
sibility of  overtaking  us. 

Which  of  the  contingencies  came  to  pass,  or  whether  the  gueril- 
las, not  having  the  fear  of  death  behind  them,  rode  less  recklessly 
than  we  did  we  could  form  no  idea.  But  their  shouts  gradually 
became  fainter ; when  we  reached  the  llanos  they  were  no  more  to 
be  heard,  and  when  the  moon  rose  an  hour  later  none  of  our  pur- 
suers were  to  be  seen.  Nevertheless,  we  pushed  on,  and  except 
once,  to  let  our  animals  drink  and  (relieved  for  a moment  of  their 


DON  ESTEBANS  DA  UGHTER. 


121 


saddles),  refresh  themselves  with  a roll,  after  the  want  of  Venezuelan 
horses,  we  drew  not  rein  until  we  had  put  fifty  miles  between  our- 
selves and  Generals  Mejia  and  Griscelli. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

DON  ESTEBAN’S  DAUGHTER. 

Ten  days  after  our  flight  from  San  Felipe  we  were  on  the  banks 
of  the  Apure.  We  received  a warm  welcome  from  Carmen’s  friend, 
Senor  Morillones,  a Spanish  creole  of  the  antique  type,  grave,  courtly 
and  dignified,  the  owner  of  many  square  miles  of  fertile  land  and 
hundreds  of  slaves,  and  as  rich  in  flocks  and  herds  as  Job  in  the 
heyday  of  his  prosperity.  He  had  a large  house,  fine  gardens,  and 
troops  of  servants.  A grand  seigneur  in  every  sense  of  the  word 
was  Senor  Don  Esteban  Morillones.  His  assurance  that  he  placed 
himself  and  his  house  and  all  that  was  his  at  our  disposal  was  no 
mere  phrase.  When  he  heard  of  our  contemplated  journey,  he  of- 
fered us  mules,  arms,  and  whatever  else  we  required  and  he  possessed, 
and  any  mention  of  payment  on  our  part  would,  as  Carmen  said, 
and  I could  well  see,  have  given  our  generous  host  dire  offense. 

We  found,  moreover,  that  we  could  easily  engage  as  many  men 
as  we  wanted,  on  condition  of  letting  them  be  our  co-adventurers 
and  share  in  the  finds  which  they  were  sure  we  should  make  ; for 
nobody  believed  that  we  would  undertake  so  long  and  arduous  a 
journey  with  any  other  purpose  than  the  seeking  of  treasure.  Our 
business  being  thus  satisfactorily  arranged,  we  might  have  started 
at  once,  but,  for  some  reason  or  other — probably  because  he  found 
our  quarters  so  pleasant — Carmen  held  back.  Whenever  I pressed 
the  point  he  would  say : “ Why  so  much  haste,  my  dear  fellow  ? 
Let  us  stay  here  awhile  longer,”  and  it  was  not  until  I threatened 
to  go  without  him  that  he  consented  to  “name  the  day.” 

Now  Don  Esteban  had  a daughter,  by  name  Juanita,  a beautiful 
girl  of  seventeen,  as  fresh  as  a rose,  and  as  graceful  as  a gazelle,  a 
girl  with  whom  any  man  might  be  excused  for  falling  in  love,  and 
she  showed  me  so  much  favor,  and,  as  it  seemed,  took  so  much 
pleasure  in  my  company,  that  only  considerations  of  prudence  and 
a sen§e  of  what  was  due  to  my  host,  and  the  laws  of  hospitality, 


122 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


prevented  me  from  yielding  myself  a willing  captive  to  her  charms. 
But  as  the  time  fixed  for  our  departure  drew  near,  this  policy  of 
renunciation  grew  increasingly  difficult.  Juanita  was  too  unsophisti- 
cated to  hide  her  feelings,  and  I judged  from  her  ways  that,  without 
in  the  least  intending  it,  I had  won  her  heart.  She  became  silent 
and  preoccupied.  When  I spoke  of  our  expedition  the  tears  would 
spring  to  her  eyes,  and  she  would  question  me  about  its  dangers, 
say  how  greatly  she  feared  we  might  never  meet  again,  and  how 
lonely  she  should  feel  when  we  were  gone. 

All  this,  however  flattering  to  my  amour  propre , was  both  em- 
barrassing and  distressing,  and  I began  seriously  to  doubt  whether 
it  was  not  my  duty,  the  laws  of  hospitality  to  the  contrary,  notwith- 
standing, to  take  pity  on  Juanita,  and  avow  the  affection  which  was 
fast  ripening  into  love.  She  would  be  my  advocate  with  Don  Este- 
ban, and  seeing  how  much  he  had  his  daughter’s  happiness  at  heart, 
there  could  be  little  question  that  he  would  pardon  my  presumption 
and  sanction  our  betrothal. 

Nevertheless,  the  preparations  for  our  expedition  went  on,  and 
the  time  for  our  departure  was  drawing  near,  when  one  evening,  as 
I returned  from  a ride,  I found  Juanita  alone  on  the  veranda,  gaz- 
ing at  the  stars,  and  looking  more  than  usually  pensive  and  de- 
pressed. 

“ So  you  are  still  resolved  to  go,  Sefior  Fortescue  ? ” she  said, 
with  a sigh. 

“ I must.  One  of  my  principal  reasons  for  coming  to  South 
America  is  to  make  an  expedition  to  the  Andes,  and  I want  much 
to  travel  in  parts  hitherto  unexplored.  And  who  knows  ? We  may 
make  great  discoveries.” 

“ But  you  might  stay  with  us  a little  longer.” 

“ I fear  we  have  trespassed  too  long  on  your  hospitality  al- 
ready.” 

“ Our  hospitality  is  not  so  easily  exhausted.  But,  O seiior,  you 
have  already  stayed  too  long  for  my  happiness.” 

“Too  long,  for  your  happiness,  senorita ! If  I thought — would 
you  really  like  me  to  stay  longer,  to  postpone  this  expedition  indefi- 
nitely, or  abandon  it  altogether  ? ” 

“ Oh,  so  much,  sefior,  so  much.  The  mere  suggestion  makes  me 
almost  happy  again.” 

“ And  if  I make  your  wish  my  law.,  and  say  that  it  is  abandoned, 
bow  then  ? ” 


i\  ■ - . 


~ 


DON  ESTEBAN'S  DAUGHTER. 


123 

‘‘You  will  make  me  happier  than  I can  tell,  and  your  debtor  for 
life/' 

" And  why  would  it  make  you  so  happy,  dear  Juanita  ? ” I 
asked,  tenderly,  at  the  same  time  looking  into  her  beautiful  eyes  and 
taking  her  unresisting  hand. 

“ Why ! Oh,  don’t  you  know  ? Have  you  not  guessed  ? ” 

“ I think  I have  all  the  same,  I should  like  the  avowal  from 
your  own  lips,  dear  Juanita.” 

“ Because — because  if  you  stay,  dear,”  she  murmured,  lowering 
her  eyes,  and  blushing  deeply,  “ if  you  stay,  dear  Salvador  will  stay 
too.” 

“ Dear  Salvador  ! Dear  Salvador ! How — why — when  ? I — I 
beg  your  pardon,  senorita.  I had  no  idea,”  I stammered,  utterly 
confounded  by  this  surprising  revelation  of  her  secret  and  my  own 
stupidity. 

“ I thought  you  knew  ; that  you  had  guessed.” 

“ I mean  I had  no  idea  that  it  had  gone  so  far,”  I said,  recover- 
ing my  self-possession,  with  a great  effort.  “ So  you  and  Carmen 
are  betrothed.” 

“ We  love.  But  if  he  goes  on  this  dreadful  expedition  I am  sure 
my  father  would  not  consent,  and  Salvador  says  that  as  he  has 
promised  to  take  part  in  it  he  can  not  go  back  on  his  word.  And  I 
said  1 would  ask  you  to  give  it  up — Salvador  did  not  like — he  said  it 
would  be  such  a great  disappointment ; and  I am  so  glad  you  have 
consented.” 

“ I beg  your  pardon,  senorita,  I have  not  consulted.” 

“ But  you  said  only  a minute  ago  that  you  would  do  as  I de- 
sired, that  my  will  should  be  your  law.” 

“ Nay,  senorita,  I put  it  merely  as  a supposition.  I said  if  I did 
make  your  wish  my  law,  how  then?  Less  than  ever  can  I renounce 
this  expedition.” 

“ Then  you  were  only  mocking  me  ! Cruel,  cruel ! ” 

“ Less  than  ever  can  I renounce  this  expedition.  But  I will  do 
what  will  perhaps  please  you  as  well.  I will  release  Carmen  from 
his  promise.  He  has  found  his  fortune ; let  him  stay.  I have  mine 
to  make  ; I must  go.” 

“ O senor,  you  have  made  me  happy  again.  I thank  you  with 
all  my  heart.  We  can  now  speak  to  my  father.  But  you  are  mis- 
taken ; it  is  not  the  same  to  me  whether  you  go  or  stay  so  long  as 
you  release  Salvador  from  his  promise.  I would  have  you  stay 


124 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


with  us,  for  I know  that  he  and  you  are  great  friends  and  that  It 
will  pain  you  to  part.” 

“ It  will,  indeed.  He  is  a true  man  and  one  of  the  bravest  and 
most  chivalrous  I ever  knew.  I can  never  forget  that  he  risked  his 
life  to  save  mine.  To  lose  so  dear  a friend  will  be  a great  grief, 
even  though  my  loss  be  your  gain,  senorita.” 

“ No  loss,  Senor  Fortescue.  Instead  of  one  friend  you  will  have 
two.  Your  gain  will  be  as  great  as  mine.” 

My  answer  to  these  gracious  words  was  to  take  her  proffered 
hand  and  press  it  to  my  lips. 

“ Caramba  ! What  is  this?  Juanita?  And  you,  senor,  is  it 
the  part  of  a friend  ? Do  you  know  ? ” 

“ Don’t  be  jealous,  Salvador,”  said  Juanita,  quietly  to  her  lover, 
who  had  come  on  the  balcony  unperceived.  “ Senor  Fortescue  is  a 
true  friend.  He  is  very  good,  he  releases  you  from  your  promise. 
And  he  seemed  so  sorry  and  spoke  so  nobly  that  the  least  I could 
do  was  to  let  him  kiss  my  hand.” 

“You  did  right,  Juanita.  I was  hasty,  I cry  peccavz  and  ask 
your  forgiveness.  And  you  really  give  up  this  expedition  for  my 
sake,  dear  friend  ? Thanks,  a thousand  thanks.” 

“ No,  I absolve  you  from  your  promise.  But  I shall  go,  all  the 
same.” 

Carmen  looked  very  grave. 

“ Think  better  of  it,  amigo  mio”  he  said.  “ When  we  formed 
this  project  we  w^re  both  in  a reckless  mood.  Much  of  the  coun- 
try you  propose  to  explore  has  never  been  trodden  by  the  white 
man’s  foot.  It  is  a country  of  impenetrable  forests,  fordless  rivers, 
and  unclimbable  mountains.  You  will  have  to  undergo  terrible  hard- 
ships, you  may  die  of  hunger  or  of  thirst,  and  escape  the  poisoned 
arrows  of  wild  Indians  only  to  fall  a victim  to  the  malarious  fevers 
which  none  but  natives  of  the  country  can  resist.” 

“When  did  you  learn  all  this?  You  talked  very  differently  a 
few  days  ago.” 

“ I did,  but  I have  been  making  inquiries.” 

“ And  you  have  fallen  in  love.” 

“ True,  and  that  has  opened  my  eyes  to  many  things.” 

“To  the  dangers  of  this  expedition,  for  instance  ; likewise  to  the 
fact  that  fighting  Spaniards  is  not  the  only  things  worth  living  for.” 

“ Very  likely  ; love  is  always  stronger  than  hate,  and  I confess 
that  I hate  the  Spaniards  much  less  than  I did,  Yet,  in  this  matter. 


DON  ESTEBAN'S  DA  UGH  TER. 


m 

I assure  you  that  I do  not  in  the  least  exaggerate.  You  must  re- 
member that  your  companions  will  be  half-breeds,  men  who  have 
neither  the  stamina  nor  the  courage  for  really  rough  work.  When 
the  hardships  begin  they  are  almost  sure  to  desert  you.  If  we  were 
going  together  we  might  possibly  pull  through,  as  we  have  already 
pulled  through  so  many  dangers.” 

“ Yes,  I shall  miss  you  sorely.  All  the  same,  I am  resolved  to 
go,  even  were  the  danger  tenfold  greater  than  you  say  it  is.” 

“ I feared  as  much.  Well,  if  I can  not  dissuade  you  from  at- 
tempting this  enterprise,  I must  e’en  go  with  you,  as  I am  pledged 
to  do.  To  let  you  undertake  it  alone,  after  agreeing  to  bear  you 
company  were  treason  to  our  friendship.  It  would  be  like  desert- 
ing in  the  face  of  the  enemy.” 

“ Not  so,  Carmen.  The  agreement  has  been  canceled  by  mu- 
tual consent,  and  to  leave  Juanita  after  winning  her  heart  would  be 
quite  as  bad  as  deserting  in  face  of  the  enemy.  And  I have  a right 
to  choose  my  company.  You  shall  not  go  with  me,” 

Juanita  again  gave  me  her  hand,  and  from  the  look  that  accom- 
panied it  I thought  that,  had  I spoken  first— but  it  wras  too  late ; the 
die  wras  cast. 

“ You  will  not  go  just  yet,”  she  murmured ; “you  will  stay  with 
us  a little  longer.” 

“As  you  wish,  senorita.  A few  days  more  or  less  will  make 
little  difference.” 

Several  other  attempts  were  made  to  turn  me  from  my  purpose. 
Don  Esteban  himself  (who  wTas  greatly  pleased  with  his  daughter’s 
betrothal  to  Carmen)  prompted  thereto  by  Juanita,  entered  the  lists. 
He  expressed  regret  that  he  had  not  another  daughter  w^hom  he 
could  bestow  upon  me,  and  went  even  so  far  as  to  offer  me  land 
and  to  set  me  up  as  a Venezuelan  country  gentleman  if  I would 
consent  to  stay. 

But  I remained  firm  to  my  resolve.  For,  albeit,  none  perceived 
it  but  myself,  I was  in  a false  position.  Though  I was  not  hope- 
lessly in  love  with  Juanita  I liked  her  so  well  that  the  contemplation 
of  Carmen’s  happiness  did  not  add  to  my  own.  I thought,  too, 
that  Juanita  guessed  the  true  state  of  the  case  ; and  she  was  so  kind 
and  gentle  withal,  and  her  gratitude  at  times  was  so  demonstrative 
that  I feared  if  I stayed  long  at  Naparima  there  might  be  trouble, 
for  like  all  men  of  Spanish  blood,  Carmen  was  quite  capable  of  be- 
ing furiously  jealous. 


126 


MR.  PORTE  SCUE. 


I left  them  a month  before  the  day  fixed  for  their  marriage.  My 
companions  were  Gahra,  and  a dozen  Indians  and  mestizoes,  to  each 
of  whom  I was  enabled  by  Don  Esteban’s  kindness  to  give  a hand- 
some gratuity  beforehand. 

To  Juanita  I gave  as  a wedding-present  my  ruby  ring,  to  Car- 
men my  horse  Pizarro. 

Our  parting  was  one  of  the  most  painful  incidents  of  my  long 
and  checkered  life.  I loved  them  both  and  I think  they  loved  me. 
Juanita  wept  abundantly ; we  all  embraced  and  tried  to  console  our- 
selves by  promising  each  other  that  we  should  meet  again;  but 
when  or  where  or  how,  none  of  us  could  tell,  and  in  our  hearts  we 
knew  that  the  chances  against  the  fruition  of  our  hopes  were  too 
great  to  be  reckoned. 

Then,  full  of  sad  thoughts  and  gloomy  forebodings,  I set  out  on 
my  long  journey  to  the  unknown. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  HAPPY  VALLEY. 

My  gloomy  forebodings  were  only  too  fully  realized.  Never 
was  a more  miserably  monotonous  journey.  After  riding  for  weeks 
through  sodden,  sunless  forests  and  trackless  wastes  we  had  to 
abandon  our  mules  and  take  to  our  .feet,  spend  weeks  on  nameless 
rivers,  poling  and  paddling  our  canoes  in  the  terrible  heat,  and  tor- 
mented almost  to  madness  by  countless  insects.  Then  the  rains 
came  on,  and  we  were  weather-stayed  for  months  in  a wretched 
Indian  village.  But  for  the  help  of  friendly  aborigines — and  fortu- 
nately the  few  we  met,  being  spoken  fair  showed  themselves  friendly 
— we  must  all  have  perished.  They  gave  us  food,  lent  us  canoes, 
served  us  as  pilots  and  guides,  and  thought  themselves  well  paid 
with  a piece  of  scarlet  cloth  or  a handful  of  glass  beads. 

My  men  turned  out  quite  as  ill  as  I had  been  led  to  expect. 
Several  deserted  at  the  outset,  two  or  three  died  of  fever,  two  were 
eaten  by  alligators,  and  when  we  first  caught  sight  of  the  Andes, 
Gahra  was  my  sole  companion. 

We  were  in  a pitiful  plight.  I was  weak  from  the  effects  of  a 
fever,  Gahra  lame  from  the  effects  of  an  accident.  My  money  was 


the  happy  Valley. 


nearly  all  gone,  my  baggage  had  been  lost  by  the  upsetting  of  a 
canoe,  and  our  worldly  goods  consisted  of  two  sorry  mules,  our 
arms,  the  ragged  clothes  on  our  backs,  and  a few  pieces  of  silver. 
How  we  were  to  cross  the  Andes,  and  what  we  should  do  when  we 
reached  Peru  was  by  no  means  clear.  As  yet,  the  fortune  which  I 
had  set  out  to  seek  seemed  further  off  than  ever.  We  had  found 
neither  gold  nor  silver  nor  precious  stones,  and  all  the  coin  I had  in 
my  waist-belt  would  not  cover  the  cost  of  a three  days’  sojourn  at 
the  most  modest  of  posaderos. 

But  we  have  left  behind  us  the  somber  and  rain-saturated  forests 
of  the  Amazon  and  the  Orinoco,  and  the  fine  country  around  us 
and  the  magnificent  prospect  before  us  made  me,  at  least,  forget 
for  the  moment,  both  our  past  privations  and  our  present  anxieties. 
We  are  on  the  montaha  of  the  eastern  Cordillera,  a mountain  land 
of  amazing  fertility,  well  wooded,  yet  not  so  thickly  as  to  render 
progress  difficult ; the  wayside  is  bordered  with  brilliant  flowers, 
cascades  tumble  from  rocky  heights,  and  far  away  to  the  west  rise 
in  the  clear  air  the  glorious  Andes,  alps  on  alps,  a vast  range  of 
stately  snow-crowned  peaks,  endless  and  solemn,  veiled  yet  not  hid- 
den by  fleecy  clouds,  and  as  cold  and  mysterious  as  winter  stars 
looking  down  on  a sleeping  world. 

For  a long  time  I gaze  entranced  at  the  wonderous  scene,  and 
should  probably  have  gone  on  gazing  had  not  Gahre  reminded  me 
that  the  day  was  well-nigh  spent  and  that  we  were  still,  according  to 
the  last  information  received,  some  distance'  from  the  mission  of  San 
Andrea  de  Huanaco,  otherwise  Valle  Hermoso,  or  Happy  Valley. 

One  of  our  chief  difficulties  had  been  to  find  our  way ; maps  we 
had  none,  for  the  very  sufficient  reason  that  maps  of  the  region  we 
had  traversed  did  not  at  that  time  exist ; our  guides  had  not  always 
proved  either  competent  or  trustworthy,  and  I had  only  the  vaguest 
idea  as  to  where  we  were.  Of  two  things  only  was  I certain,  that 
we  were  south  of  the  equator  and  within  sight  of  the  Andes  of  Peru 
(which  at  that  time  included  the  countries  now  known  as  Ecuador 
and  Bolivia). 

A few  days  previously  I had  fallen  in  with  an  old  half-caste 
priest,  from  whom  I had  heard  of  the  Mission  of  San  Andrea  de 
Huanaco,  and  how  to  get  there,  and  who  drew  for  my  guidance  a 
rough  sketch  of  the  route.  The  priest  in  charge,  a certain  Fray 
Ignacio,  a born  Catalan,  would,  he  felt  sure,  be  glad  to  find  me 
quarters  and  give  me  every  information  in  his  power. 


MR.  FORTE SCUE. 


12§ 

And  so  it  proved.  Had  I been  his  own  familiar  friend  Fray 
Ignacio  could  not  have  welcomed  me  more  warmly  or  treated  me 
more  kindly.  A European  with  news  but  little  above  a year  old 
was  a perfect  godsend  to  him.  When  he  heard  that  I had  served 
in  his  native  land  and  the  Bourbons  once  more  ruled  in  France  and 
Spain,  he  went  into  ecstasies  of  delight,  took  me  into  his  house,  and 
gave  me  of  his  best. 

San  Andrea  was  well  named  Valle  Hermoso.  It  was  like  an 
alpine  village  set  in  a tropical  garden.  The  mud  houses  were  over- 
grown with  greenery,  the  rocks  mantled  with  flowers,  the  nearer 
heights  crested  with  noble  trees,  whose  great  white  trunks,  as 
smooth  and  round  as  the  marble  pillars  of  an  Eastern  palace,  were 
roofed  with  domes  of  purple  leaves. 

Through  the  valley  and  between  verdant  banks  and  blooming 
orchards  meandered  a silvery  brook,  either  an  affluent  or  a source  of 
one  of  the  mighty  streams  which  find  their  homes  in  the  great 
Atlantic. 

The  mission  was  a village  of  tame  Indians,  whose  ancestors  had 
been  “ Christianized,”  by  Fray  Ignacio’s  Jesuit  predecessor.  But 
the  Jesuits  had  been  expelled  from  South  America  nearly  half  a 
century  before.  My  host  belonged  to  the  order  of  St.  Francis. 
The  spiritual  guide,  as  well  as  the  earthly  providence  of  his  flock, 
he  managed  their  affairs  in  this  world  and  prepared  them  for  the 
next.  And  they  seemed  nothing  loath.  A more  listless,  easy-going 
community  than  the  Indians  of  the  Happy  Valley  it  were  difficult 
to  imagine.  The  men  did  little  but  smoke,  sleep,  and  gamble.  All 
the  real  work  was  done  by  the  women,  and  even  they  took  care  not 
to  overexert  themselves.  All  were  short-lived.  The  women  began 
to  age  at  twenty,  the  men  were  old  at  twenty-five  and  generally 
died  about  thirty,  of  general  decay,  said  the  priest.  In  my  opinion 
of  pure  laziness.  Exertion  is  a condition  of  healthy  existence  ; and 
the  most  active  are  generally  the  longest  lived. 

Nevertheless,  Fray  Ignacio  was  content  with  his  people.  They 
were  docile  and  obedient,  went  regularly  to  church,  had  a great 
capacity  for  listening  patiently  to  long  sermons,  and  if  they  died 
young  they  got  so  much  the  sooner  to  heaven. 

All  the  the  same.  Fray  Ignacio  was  not  so  free  from  care  as 
might  be  supposed.  He  had  two  anxieties.  The  Happy  Valley  was 
so  far  untrue  to  its  name  as  to  be  subject  to  earthquakes ; but  as 
none  of  a very  terrific  character  had  occurred  for  a quarter  of  a 


THE  HAPPY  VALLEY. 


129 


Century  he  was  beginning  to  hope  that  it  would  be  spared  any 
further  visitations  for  the  remainder  of  his  lifetime.  A much  more 
serious  trouble  were  the  occasional  visits  of  bands  of  wild  Indians — 
Indios  misterios , he  called  them  ; what  they  called  themselves  he 
had  no  idea.  Neither  had  he  any  definite  idea  whence  they  came ; 
from  the  other  side  of  the  Cordilleras,  some  people  thought.  But 
they  neither  pillaged  nor  murdered — except  when  they  were  resisted 
or  in  drink,  for  which  reason  the  father  always  kept  his  aguardiente 
carefully  hidden.  Their  worst  propensity  was  a passion  for  white 
girls.  There  were  two  or  three  mestizo  families  in  the  village,  some 
of  whom  were  whiter,  or  rather,  less  coppery  than  the  others,  and 
from  these  the  misterios  would  select  and  carry  off  the  best-looking 
maidens;  for  what  purpose,  Fray  Ignacio  could  not  tell,  but,  as  he 
feared,  to  sacrifice  to  their  gods. 

When  I heard  that  these  troublesome  visitors  generally  num- 
bered fewer  than  a score,  I asked  why,  seeing  that  the  valley  con- 
tained, at  least,  a hundred  and  fifty  men  capable  of  bearing  arms, 
the  raiders  were  not  resisted.  On  this  the  father  smiled  and 
answered,  that  no  earthly  consideration  would  induce  his  tame 
Indians  to  fight ; it  was  so  much  easier  to  die.  He  could  not  even 
persuade  the  mestizoes  to  migrate  to  a safer  locality.  It  was  easier 
to  be  robbed  of  their  children  occasionally  than  to  move  their  goods 
and  chattels  and  find  another  home. 

I asked  Fray  Ignacio  whether  he  thought  these  robbers  of  white 
children  were  likely  to  pay  him  a visit  soon. 

“ I am  afraid  they  are,”  he  said.  “ It  is  nearly  two  years  since 
their  last  visit,  and  they  only  come  in  summer.  Why?  ” 

“ I have  a curiosity  to  see  them ; and  I think  I could  save  the 
children  and  give  these  wild  fellows  such  a lesson  that  they  would 
trouble  you  no  m«re — at  any  rate  for  a long  time  to  come.” 

“ I should  be  inexpressibly  grateful.  But  how,  senor?  ” 
Whereupon  I disclosed  my  scheme.  It  was  very  simple ; I pro- 
posed to  turn  one  of  the  most  likely  houses  in  the  village  into  a 
small  fortress  which  might  serve  as  a refuge  for  the  children,  and 
which  Gahra  and  I would  undertake  to  defend.  We  had  two 
muskets  and  a pair  of  double-barreled  pistols,  and  the  priest 
possessed  an  old  blunderbuss,  which  I thought  I could  convert  into 
a serviceable  weapon.  In  this  way  we  should  be  able  to  shoot 
down  four  or  five  of  the  misterios  before  any  of  them  could  get  near 
us,  and  as  they  had  no  firearms  I felt  sure  that,  after  so  warm  a 
9 - - 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


130 

reception,  they  would  let  us  alone  and  go  their  way.  The  shooting 
would  demoralize  them,  and  as  we  should  not  show  ourselves  they 
could  not  know  that  the  garrison  consisted  only  of  the  negro  and 
myself. 

“ Very  well,”  said  the  priest,  after  a moment’s  thought.  “ I 
leave  it  to  you.  But  remember  that  if  you  fail  they  will  kill  you 
and  everybody  else  in  the  place.  However,  I dare  say  you  will 
succeed,  the  firearms  may  frighten  them,  and,  on  the  whole,  I think 
the  risk  is  worth  running  ! ” . 

The  next  question  was  how  to  get  timely  warning  of  the  enemy’s 
approach.  I suggested  posting  scouts  on  the  hills  which  commanded 
the  roads  into  the  valley.  I thought  that,  albeit  the  tame  Indians 
were  good  for  nothing  else,  they  could  at  least  sit  under  a tree  and 
keep  their  eyes  open. 

“ They  would  fall  asleep,”  said  Fray  Ignacio. 

So  we  decided  to  keep  a lookout  among  ourselves,  and  ask  the 
girls  who  tended  the  cattle  to  do  the  same.  They  were  much  more 
wide-awake  than  the  men,  if  the  latter  could  be  said  to  be  awake 
at  all. 

The  next  thing  was  to  fortify  the  priest’s  house,  which  seemed 
the  most  suitable  for  our  purpose.  I strengthened  the  wall  with 
stays,  repaired  the  old  trabuco,  which  was  almost  as  big  as  a small 
cannon,  and  made  ready  for  barricading  the  doors  and  windows  on 
the  first  alarm. 

This  done,  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  wait  with  what  pa- 
tience I might,  and  kill  time  as  I best  could.  I walked  about, 
fished  in  the  river,  and  talked  with  Fray  Ignacio.  I would  have 
gone  out  shooting,  for  there  was  plenty  of  game  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, only  that  I had  to  reserve  my  ammunition  for  more  serious 
work. 

For  the  present,  at  least,  my  idea  of  exploring  the  Andes  ap- 
peared to  be  quite  out  of  the  question.  I should  require  both  mules 
and  guides,  and  I had  no  money  either  to  buy  the  one  or  to  pay  the 
other. 

And  so  the  days  went  monotonously  on  until  it  seemed  as  if  I 
should  have  to  remain  in  this  valley  surnamed  Happy  for  the  term  of 
my  natural  life,  and  I grew  so  weary  withal  that  I should  have  .re- 
garded a big  earthquake  as  a positive  godsend.  I was  in  this 
mood,  ar^  ready  for  any  enterprise,  however  desperate,  when  one 
morning  a young  woman  who  had  been  driving  cattle  to  an  upland 


THE  HAPPY  VALLEY. 


131 

pasture,  came  running  to  Fray  Ignacio  to  say  that  she  had  seen  a 
troop  of  horsemen  coming  down  from  the  mountains. 

» “The  misterios!"  said  the  priest,  turning  pale.  “Are  you 
still  resolved,  senor  ? ” 

“ Certainly,”  I answered,  trying  to  look  grave,  though  really 
greatly  delighted.  “ Be  good  enough  to  send  for  the  girls  who  are 
most  in  danger.  Gahra  and  I will  take  possession  of  the  house, 
and  do  all  that  is  needful.” 

It  was  further  arranged  that  Fray  Ignacio  should  remain  out- 
side with  his  tame  Indians,  and  tell  the  misterios  that  all  the  good- 
looking  mestizo,  maidens  were  in  his  house,  guarded  by  braves 
from  over  the  seas,  who  would  strike  dead  with  lightning  anybody 
who  attempted  to  lay  hands  on  them. 

By  the  time  our  preparations  were  completed,  and  the  fright- 
ened and  weeping  girls  shut  up  in  an  inner  room,  the  wild  Indians 
were  at  the  upper  end  of  the  big,  straggling  village,  and  presently 
entered  a wide,  open  space  between  the  ramshackle  old  church  and 
Ignacio’s  house.  The  party  consisted  of  fifteen  or  sixteen  warriors 
mounted  on  small  horses.  All  rode  bare-back,  were  naked  to  the 
waist,  and  armed  with  bows  and  arrows  and  the  longest  spears  I 
had  yet  seen. 

The  tame  Indians  looked  stolidly  on.  Nothing  short  of  an 
earthquake  would  have  disturbed  their  self-possession.  Rather  to 
my  surprise,  for  he  had  not  so  far  shown  a superabundance  of  cour- 
age, Fray  Ignacio  seemed  equal  to  the  occasion.  He  was  tall, 
portly,  and  white-haired,  and  as  he  stood  at  the  church-door,  clad  in 
his  priestly  robes,  he  looked  venerable  and  dignified. 

One  of  the  misterios , whom  from  his  remarkable  head-dress — a 
helmet  made  of  a condor’s  skull— I took  to  be  a cacique  after 
greeting  the  priest,  entered  into  conversation  with  him,  the  purport 
of  which  I had  no  difficulty  in  guessing,  for  the  Indian,  laughing 
loudly,  turned  to  his  companions  and  said  something  that  appeared 
greatly  to  amuse  them.  Neither  he  nor  they  believed  Fray  Ignacio’s 
story  of  the  great  pale-face  chief  and  his  death-dealing  powers. 

The  cacique,  followed  by  a few  of  his  men,  then  rode  leisurely 
toward  the  house.  He  was  a fine-looking  fellow,  with  cigar- 
colored  skin  and  features  unmistakably  more  Spanish  than  Indian. 

My  original'  idea  was  to  shoot  the  first  two  of  them,  and  so 
strike  terror  into  the  rest.  But  the  cacique  bore  himself  so  bravely 
that  I felt  reluctant  to  kill  him  in  cold  blood  ; and  thinking  that  kill- 


132 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


ing  his  horse  might  do  as  well,  I waited  until  they  were  well  within 
range,  and,  taking  careful  aim,  shot  it  through  the  head.  As  the 
horse  went  down,  the  cacique  sprang  nimbly  to  his  feet ; he  seemed 
neither  surprised  nor  dismayed,  took  a long  look  at  the  house,  then 
waved  his  men  back,  and  followed  them  leisurely  to  the  other  side 
of  the  square. 

“ What  think  you,  Gahra  ? Will  they  go  away  and  leave  us  in 
peace,  or  shall  we  have  to  shoot  some  of  them  ? ” I said,  as  I re- 
loaded my  musket. 

“ I think  we  shall,  senor.  That  tall  man  whose  horse  you  shot 
did  not  seem  much  frightened.” 

“ Anything  but  that,  and— what  are  they  about  now  ? ” 

The  wild  Indians,  directed  by  their  chief,  were  driving  the  tame 
Indians  together,  pretty  much  as  sheep-dogs  drive  sheep,  and  soon 
had  them  penned  into  a compact  mass  in  an  angle  formed  by  the 
church  and  another  building.  Although  the  crowd  numbered  two 
or  three  hundred,  of  whom  a third  were  men,  no  resistance  was  of- 
fered. A few  of  exceptionally  energetic  character  made  a languid 
attempt  to  bolt,  but  were  speedily  brought  back  by  the  misterios , 
whose  long  spears  they  treated  with  profound  respect. 

So  soon  as  this  operation  was  completed  the  cacique  beckoned 
peremptorily  to  the  padre , and  the  two,  talking  earnestly  the  while, 
came  toward  the  house.  It  seemed  as  if  the  Indian  chief  wanted  a 
parley ; but,  not  being  quite  sure  of  this,  I thought  it  advisable, 
when  he  was  about  fifty  yards  off,  to  show  him  the  muzzle  of  my 
piece.  The  hint  was  understood.  He  laid  his  weapons  on  the 
ground,  and,  when  he  and  the  padre  were  within  speaking  distance, 
the  padrey  who  appeared  very  much  disturbed,  said  the  cacique  de- 
sired to  have  speech  of  me.  Not  to  be  outdone  in  magnanimity  I 
opened  the  door  and  stepped  outside. 

The  cacique  doffed  his  skull-helmet,  and  made  a low  bow.  I re- 
turned the  greeting,  said  that  I was  delighted  to  make  his  acquaint- 
ance, and  asked  what  I could  do  to  oblige  him. 

“ Give  up  the  maidens,”  he  answered,  in  broken  Spanish. 

“ I can  not ; they  are  in  my  charge.  I have  sworn  to  protect 
them,  and,  as  you  discovered  just  now,  I have  the  means  of  making 
good  my  word.  ” 

“It  is  true.  You  have  lightning;  I have  none,  and  I shall  not 
sacrifice  my  braves  in  a vain  attempt  to  take  the  maidens  by  force. 
Nevertheless,  you  will  give  them  up.” 


THE  HAPPY  VALLEY. 


133 


“ You  are  mistaken.  I shall  not  give  them  up.” 

The  great  pale-face  chief  is  a friend  of  these  poor  tame  people ; 
he  wishes  them  well  ? ” 

“ It  is  true,  and  for  that  reason  I shall  not  let  you  carry  off  the 
seven  maidens.” 

“ Seven  ? ” 

“ Yes,  seven.” 

“ How  many  men  and  women  and  maidens  are  there  yonder, 
trembling  before  the  spears  of  my  braves  like  corn  shaken  by  the 
wind — fifty  times  seven  ? ” 

“ Probably.” 

“ Then  my  brother— for  I also  am  a great  chief— my  brother 
from  over  the  seas  holds  the  liberty  of  seven  to  be  of  more  account 
than  the  lives  of  fifty  times  seven.” 

“My  brother  speaks  in  riddles,”  I said,  acknowledging  the  ca- 
cique’s compliment  and  adopting  his  style. 

It  is  a riddle  that  a child  might  read.  Unless  the  maidens  are 

given  up  not  to  harm,  but  to  be  taken  to  our  country  up  there 

unless  they  are  given  up  the  spears  of  my  braves  will  drink  the 
blood  of  their  kinsfolk,  and  my  horses  shall  trample  their  bodies  in 
the  dust.” 

The  cacique  spoke  so  gravely  and  his  air  was  so  resolute  that  I 
felt  sure  he  would  do  as  he  said,  and  I did  not  see  how  I could  pre- 
vent him.  His  men  were  beyond  the  range  of  our  pieces,  and  to  go 
outside  were  to  lose  our  lives  to  no  purpose.  We  might  get  a 
couple  of  shots  at  them,  but,  before  we  could  reload,  they  would 
either  shoot  us  down  with  their  bows  or  spit  us  with  their  spears. 

Fray  Ignacio,  seeing  the  dilemma,  drew  me  aside. 

“ You  will  have  to  do  it,”  he  said.  “ I am  very  sorry.  The  girls 
will  either  be  sacrificed  or  brought  up  as  heathens ; but  better  so 
than  that  these  devils  should  be  let  loose  on  my  poor  people,  for, 
albeit  some  might  escape,  many  would  be  slaughtered.  Why  did 
you  shoot  the  horse  and  let  the  savage  and  his  companion  go  scath- 
less  ? ” 

You  may  well  ask  the  question,  father.  I see  what  a grievous 
mistake  I made.  When  it  came  to  the  point,  I did  not  like  to  kill 
brave  men  in  cold  blood.  I was  too  merciful.” 

“ As  you  say,  a grievous  mistake.  Never  repeat  it,  senor.  It  is 
always  a mistake  to  show  mercy  to  Indios  brutes  ' But  what  will 
you  do  ? ” 


134 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


“ I suppose  give  up  the  girls ; it  is  the  smaller  evil  of  the  two. 
And  yet — I promised  that  no  evil  should  befall  them — no,  I must 
make  another  effort.” 

And  with  that  I turned  once  more  to  the  cacique. 

“ Do  you  know,”  I said,  laying  my  hand  on  the  pistol  in  my  belt 
— “ do  you  know  that  your  life  is  in  my  hands  ? ” 

He  did  not  flinch  ; but  a look  passed  over  his  face  which  showed 
that  my  implied  threat  had  produced  an  effect. 

“ It  is  true ; but  if  a hair  of  my  head  be  touched,  all  these  people 
will  perish.” 

“ Let  them  perish  ! What  are  the  lives  of  a few  tame  Indians  to 
me,  compared  with  my  oath  ? Did  I not  tell  you  that  I had  sworn 
to  protect  the  maidens — that  no  harm  should  befall  them  ? And 
unless  you  call  your  men  off  and  promise  to  go  quietly  away — ” 
Here  I drew  my  pistol. 

It  was  now  the  cacique’s  turn  to  hesitate.  After  a moment’s 
thought  he  answered  : 

“ Let  the  lightning  kill  me,  then.  It  were  better  for  me  to  die 
than  to  return  to  my  people  empty-handed ; and  my  death  will  not 
be  unavenged.  But  if  the  pale-face  chief  will  go  with  us  instead  of 
the  maidens,  he  will  make  Gondocori  his  friend,  and  these  tame  In- 
dians shall  not  die.” 

“ Go  with  you  ! But  whither  ? ” 

Gondocori  pointed  toward  the  Cordillera. 

“To  our  home  up  yonder,  in  the  heart  of  the  Andes.” 

“ And  what  will  you  do  with  me  when  you  get  me  there  ? ” 

“ Your  fate  will  be  decided  by  Mamcuna,  our  queen.  If  you  find 
favor  in  her  sight,  well.” 

“ And  if  not — ? ” 

“ Then  it  would  not  be  well — for  you.  But  as  she  has  often  ex- 
pressed a wish  to  see  a pale-face  with  a long  beard,  I think  it  will 
be  well ; and  in  any  case  I answer  for  your  life.” 

“ What  security  have  I for  this  ? How  do  I know  that  when 
I am  in  your  power  you  will  carry  out  the  compact  ? ” 

“ You  have  heard  the  word  of  Gondocori.  See,  I will  swear  it 
on  the  emblem  you  mostrespect.” 

And  the  cacique  pressed  his  lips  to  the  cross  which  hung  from 
Ignacio’s  neck.  It  was  a strange  act  on  the  part  of  a wild  Indian, 
and  confirmed*  the  suspicion  I already  entertained,  that  Gondocori 
was  the  son  of  a Christian  mother. 


A FIGHT  FOR  LIFE . 


135 

“ He  is  a heathen  ; his  oath  is  worthless  ; don’t  trust  him,  let  the 
girls  go,”  whispered  the  padre  in  my  ear. 

But  I had  already  made  up  my  mind.  It  was  on  my  conscience 
to  keep  faith  with  the  girls  ; I wanted  neither  kill  the  cacique  nor  see 
his  man  kill  the  tame  Indians,  and  whatever  might  befall  me  “ up 
yonder  ” I should  at  any  rate  get  away  from  San  Andrea  de 
Huanaco. 

“ The  die  is  cast ; I will  go  with  you,”  I said,  turning  to  Gondo- 
cori. 

“ Now,  I know,  beyond  a doubt,  that  my  brother  is  the  bravest 
of  the  brave.  He  fears  not  the  unknown.” 

I asked  if  Gahra  might  bear  me  company. 

“ At  his  own  risk.  But  I can  not  answer  for  his  safety.  Mam- 
cuna  loves  not  black  people.” 

This  was  not  very  encouraging,  and  after  I had  explained  the 
matter  to  Gahra  I strongly  advised  him  to  stay  where  he  was.  But 
he  said  he  was  my  man,  that  he  owed  me  his  liberty,  and  would  go 
with  me  to  the  end,  even  though  it  should  cost  him  his  life. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

A FIGHT  FOR  LIFE. 

We  have  left  behind  us  the  ?nontano,  with  its  verdant  uplands 
and  waving  forests,  its  blooming  valleys,  flower-strewed  savan- 
nas, and  sunny  waters,  and  are  crawling  painfully  along  a ledge, 
hardly  a yard  wide,  stern  gray  rocks  all  round  us,  a foaming  tor- 
rent only  faintly  visible  in  the  prevailing  gloom  a thousand  feet 
below.  Our  mules,  obtained  at  the  last  village  in  the  fertile  re- 
gion, move  at  the  speed  of  snails,  for  the  path  is  slippery  and  inse- 
cure, and  one  false  step  would  mean  death  for  both  the  rider  and 
the  ridden. 

Presently  the  gorge  widens  into  a glen,  where  forlorn  flowers 
struggle  toward  the  scanty  light  and  stunted  trees  find  a precarious 
foothold  among  the  rocks  and  stones.  Soon  the  ravine  narrows 
again,  narrows  until  it  becomes  a mere  cleft ; the  mule-path  goes 
up  and  down  like  some  mighty  snake,  now  mounting  to  a dizzy 
height,  anon  descending  to  the  bed  of  the  thundering  torrent,  The 


136 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


air  is  dull  and  sepulchral,  an  icy  wind  blows  in  our  faces,  and 
though  I am  warmly  clad,  and  wrapped  besides  in  a thick  poncho , I 
shiver  to  the  bone. 

At  length  we  emerge  from  this  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  and 
after  crossing  an  arid  yet  not  quite  treeless  plain,  begin  to  climb  by 
many  zigzags  an  almost  precipitous  height.  The  mules  suffer  terri- 
bly, stopping  every  few  minutes  to  take  breath,  and  it  is  with  a feel- 
ing of  intense  relief  that,  after  an  ascent  of  two  hours,  we  find  our- 
selves on  the  cumbre , or  ridge  of  the  mountain. 

For  the  first  time  since  yesterday  we  have  an  unobstructed  view. 
I dismount  and  look  round.  Backward  stretches  an  endless  ex- 
panse of  bleak  and  storm-swept  billowy  mountains ; before  us 
looms,  in  serried  phalanx,  the  western  Cordillera,  dazzling  white, 
all  save  one  black-throated  colossus,  who  vomits  skyward  thick 
clouds  of  ashes  and  smoke,  and  down  whose  ragged  flanks  course 
streams  of  fiery  lava. 

After  watching  this  stupendous  spectacle  for  a few  minutes  we 
go  on,  and  shortly  reach  another  and  still  loftier  qucbrada.  Icicles 
hang  from  the  rocks,  the  pools  of  the  streams  are  frozen  ; we  have 
reached  an  altitude  as  high  as  the  summit  of  Mont  Blanc,  and  our 
distended  lips,  swollen  hands,  and  throbbing  temples  show  how 
great  is  the  rarefaction  of  the  air. 

None  of  us  suffer  so  much  from  the  cold  as  poor  Gahra.  His 
ebon  skin  has  turned  ashen  gray,  he  shivers  continually,  can  hardly 
speak,  and  sits  on  his  mule  with  difficulty. 

The  country  we  are  in  is  uninhabited  and  the  trail  we  are  follow- 
ing known  only  to  a few  Indians.  I am  the  first  white  man,  says 
Gondocori,  by  whom  it  has  been  trodden. 

We  pass  the  night  in  a ruined  building  of  cyclopean  dimensions, 
erected  no  doubt  in  the  time  of  the  Incas,  either  for  the  accommoda- 
tion of  travelers  by  whom  the  road  was  then  frequented  or  for  pur- 
poses of  defense.  But  being  both  roofless,  windowless,  and  fireless, 
it  makes  only  a poor  lodging.  The  icy  wind  blows  through  a hun- 
dred crevices ; my  limbs  are  frozen  stiff,  and  when  morning  comes 
many  of  us  look  more  dead  than  alive. 

I asked  Gondocori  how  the  poor  girls  of  San  Andrea  could  pos- 
sibly have  survived  so  severe  a journey. 

“ The  weaker  would  have  died.  But  I did  not  expect  this  cold. 
The  winter  is  beginning  unusually  early  this  year.  Had  we  been  a 
few  days  later  we  should  not  have  got  through  at  all,  and  if  it  be- 


A FIGHT  FOR  LIFE . 1 37 

gins  to  snow  it  may  go  ill  with  us,  even  yet.  But  to-morrow  the 
worst  will  be  over.” 

The  cacique  had  so  far  behaved  very  well,  treating  me  as  a friend 
and  an  equal,  and  doing  all  he  could  for  my  comfort.  His  men 
treated  me  as  a superior.  Gondocori  said  very  little  about  his  coun- 
try, still  less  about  Queen  Mamcuna,  whom  he  also  called  “ Great 
Mother.”  To  my  frequent  questions  on  these  subjects  he  made 
always  the  same  answer  : “ Patience,  you  will  see.” 

He  did,  however,  tell  me  that  his  people  called  their  country 
Pachatupec  and  themselves  Pachatupecs,  that  the  Spaniards  had 
never  subdued  them  or  even  penetrated  into  the  fastnesses  where 
they  dwelt,  and  that  they  spoke  the  ancient  language  of  Peru. 

Gondocori  admitted  that  his  mother  was  a Christian,  and  to  her 
he  no  doubt  owed  his  notions  of  religion  and  the  regularity  of  his 
features.  She  had  been  carried  off  as  he  meant  to  carry  off  the 
seven  maidens  of  the  Happy  Valley,  for  the  misterios  had  a theory 
that  a mixture  of  white  and  Indian  blood  made  the  finest  children 
and  the  boldest  warriors.  But  white  wives  being  difficult  to  ob- 
tain, mestizo,  maidens  had  generally  to  be  accepted,  or  rather,  taken 
in  their  stead. 

We  rose  before  daybreak  and  were  in  the  saddle  at  dawn.  The 
ground  and  the  streams  are  hard  frozen,  and  the  path  is  so  slippery 
that  the  trembling  mules  dare  scarcely  put  one  foot  before  the 
other,  and  our  progress  is  painfully  slow.  We  are  in  a broad  stone- 
strewed  valley,  partly  covered  with  withered  puma-grass,  on  which  a 
flock  of  graceful  vicunas  are  quietly  grazing,  as  seemingly  uncon- 
scious of  our  presence  as  the  great  condors  which  soar  above  the 
snowy  peaks  that  look  down  on  the  plain. 

As  we  leave  the  valley,  through  a pass  no  wider  than  a gateway, 
the  cacique  gives  me  a word  of  warning. 

“ The  part  we  are  coming  to  is  the  most  dangerous  of  all,”  he 
said.  “ But  it  is,  fortunately,  not  long.  Two  hours  will  bring  us  to 
a sheltered  valley.  And  now  leave  everything  to  your  mule.  If 
you  feel  nervous  shut  your  eyes,  but  as  you  value  your  life  neither 
tighten  your  reins  nor  try  to  guide  him.” 

I repeat  this  caution  to  Gahra,  and  ask  how  he  feels. 

“Much  better,  sehor,  the  sunshine  has  given  me  new  life.  I 
feel  equal  to  anything  ! ” 

And  now  we  have  to  travel  once  more  in  single  file,  for  the 
path  runs  along  a mountain  spur  almost  as  perpendicular  as  a wall ; 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


138 


we  are  between  two  precipices,  down  which  even  the  boldest  can 
not  look  without  a shudder.  The  incline,  moreover,  is  rapid,  and 
from  time  to  time  we  come  to  places  where  the  ridge  is  so  broken 
and  insecure  that  we  have  to  dismount,  let  our  mules  go  first,  and 
creep  after  them  on  our  hands. 

At  the  head  of  the  file  is  an  Indian  who  rides  the  madrina  (a 
mare)  and  acts  as  guide,  next  come  Gondocori,  myself,  and  Gahra, 
followed  by  the  other  mounted  Indians,  three  or  four  baggage-mules, 
and  two  men  on  foot. 

We  have  been  going  thus  nearly  an  hour,  when  a sudden  and 
portentous  change  sets  in.  Murky  clouds  gather  round  the  higher 
summits  and  shut  out  the  sun,  a thick  mist  settles  down  on  the 
ridge,  and  in  a few  minutes  we  are  folded  in  a gloom  hardlJTess 
dense  than  midnight  darkness. 

“ Halt ! ” shouts  the  guide. 

“ What  shall  we  do  ? ” I ask  the  cacique , whom,  though  he  is 
but  two  yards  from  me,  I can  not  see. 

“ Nothing.  We  can  only  wait  here  till  the  mist  clears  away,” 
he  shouts  in  a muffled  voice. 

“ And  how  soon  may  that  be  ? ’’ 

“ Quien  sabe?  Perhaps  a few  minutes,  perhaps  hours.” 

Hours ! To  stand  for  hours,  even  for  one  hour,  immovable  in 
that  mist  on  that  ridge  would  be  death.  Since  the  sun  disappeared 
the  cold  had  become  keener  than  ever.  The  blood  seems  to  be 
freezing  in  my  veins,  my  beard  is  a block  of  ice,  icicles  are  forming 
on  my  eyelids. 

If  this  goes  on— a gleam  of  light ! Thank  Heaven,  the  mist 
is  lifting,  just  enough  to  enable  me  to  see  Gondocori  and  the  guide. 
They  are  quite  white.  It  is  snowing,  yet  so  softly  as  not  to  be  felt, 
and  as  the  fog  melts  the  flakes  fall  faster. 

“Let  us  go  on,”  says  Gondocori.  “Better  roll  down  the  preci- 
pice than  be  frozen  to  death.  And  if  we  stop  here  much  longer, 
and  the  snow  continues,  the  pass  beyond  will  be  blocked,  and  then 
we  must  die  of  hunger  and  cold,  for  there  is  no  going  back..” 

So  we  move  on,  slowly  and  noiselessly,  amid  the  fast-falling 
snow,  like  a company  of  ghosts,  every  man  conscious  that  his  life 
depends  on  the  sagacity  and  sure-footedness  of  his  mule.  And  it 
is  wonderful  how  wary  the  creatures  are.  They  literally  feel  their 
way,  never  putting  one  foot  forward  until  the  other  is  firmly  planted. 
But  the  snow  confuses  them,  More  than  once  my  mule  slips  dan- 


A FIGHT  FOR  LIFE . 


139 

gerously,  and  I am  debating  within  myself  whether  I should  not  be 
safer  on  foot,  when  I hear  a cry  in  front. 

“ What  is  it  ? ” I ask  Gondocori,  for  I can  not  see  past  him. 

“ The  guide  is  gone.  The  madrina  slipped,  and  both  have  rolled 
down  the  precipice.” 

“ Shall  we  get  off  and  walk  ? ” 

“ If  you  like.  You  will  not  be  any  safer,  though  you  may  feel  so. 
The  mules  are  surer  footed  than  we  are,  and  they  have  four  legs  to 
our  two.  I shall  keep  where  I am.” 

Not  caring  to  show  myself  less  courageous  than  the  cacique , I 
also  keep  where  I am.  We  get  down  the  ridge  somehow  without 
further  mishaps,  and  after  a while  find  ourselves  in  a funnel-shaped 
gully  the  passage  of  which,  in  ordinary  circumstances,  would  prob- 
ably present  no  difficulty.  But  just  now  it  is  a veritable  battle- 
field of  the  winds,  which  seem  to  blow  from  every  point  of  the 
compass  at  once.  The  snow  dashes  against  our  faces  like  spray 
from  the  ocean,  and  whirls  round  us  in  blasts  so  fierce  that,  at 
times,  we  can  neither  see  nor  hear.  The  mules,  terrified  and  ex- 
hausted, put  down  their  heads  and  stand  stock-still.  We  dis- 
mount and  try  to  drag  them  after  us,  but  even  then  they  refuse  to 
move. 

“ If  they  won’t  come  they  must  die ; and  unless  we  hurry  on  we 
shall  die,  too.  Forward!”  cried  Gondocori,  himself  setting  the 
example. 

Never  did  I battle  so  hard  for  very  life  as  in  that  gully.  The 
snow  nearly  blinded  me,  the  wind  took  my  breath  away,  forced  me 
backward,  and  beat  me  to  the  earth  again  and  again.  More  than 
once  it  seemed  as  if  we  should  have  to  succumb,  and  then  there 
would  come  a momentary  lull  and  we  would  make  another  rush  and 
and  gain  a little  more  ground. 

Amid  all  the  hurly-burly,  though  I can  not  think  consecutively 
(all  the  strength  of  my  body  and  every  faculty  of  my  mind  being 
absorbed  in  the  struggle),  I have  one  fixed  idea — not  to  lose  sight 
of  Gondocori,  and,  except  once  or  twice  for  a few  seconds,  I never 
did.  Where  he  goes  I go,  and  when,  after  an  unusually  severe  buf- 
feting, he  plunges  into  a snow-drift  at  the  end  of  the  ravine,  I fol- 
low him  without  hesitation. 

Side  by  side*we  fought  our  way  through,  dashing  the  snow  aside 
with  our  hands,  pushing  against  it  with  our  shoulders,  beating  it 
down  with  our  feet,  and  after  a desperate  struggle,  which  though 


140 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


it  appeared  endless  could  have  lasted  only  a few  minutes,  the  victory 
was  ours  ; we  were  free. 

I can  hardly  believe  my  eyes.  The  sun  is  visible,  the  sky  clear 
and  blue,  and  below  us  stretches  a grassy  slope  like  a Swiss  “ alp.” 
Save  for  the  turmoil  of  wind  behind  us  and  our  dripping  garments 
I could  believe  that  I had  just  wakened  from  a bad  dream,  so  start- 
ling is  the  change.  The  explanation  is,  however,  sufficiently  simple  : 
the  area  of  the  tour  merit  c is  circumscribed  and  we  have  got  out  of 
it,  the  gully  merely  a passage  between  the  two  mighty  ramparts  of 
rock  which  mark  the  limits  of  the  tempest  and  now  protect  us  from 
its  fury. 

“ But  where  are  the  others  ? ” 

Up  to  that  moment  I had  not  given  them  a thought.  While  the 
struggle  lasted  thinking  had  not  been  possible.  After  we  abandoned 
the  mules  I had  eyes  only  for  Gondocori,  and  never  once  looked  be- 
hind me. 

“ Where  are  the  others  ? ” I asked  the  cacique. 

“ Smothered  in  the  snow  ; two  minutes  more  and  we  also  should 
have  been  smothered.” 

4t  Let  us  go  back  and  see.  They  may  still  live.” 

“ Impossible  ! We  could  not  get  back  if  we  had  ten  times  the 
strength  and  were  ten  instead  of  two.  Listen  ! ” 

The  roar  of  the  storm  in  the  gully  is  louder  than  ever;  the  drift, 
now  higher  than  the  tallest  man,  grows  even  as  we  look. 

Fifteen  men  buried  alive  within  a few  yards  of  us,  yet  beyond  the 
possibility  of  help  ! Poor  Gahra  ! If  he  had  loved  me  less  and  him- 
self more,  he  would  still  be  enjoying  the  dolce  far  nioite  of  Happy 
Valley,  instead  of  lying  there,  stark  and  stiff  in  his  frozen  winding- 
sheet.  A word  of  encouragement,  a helping  hand  at  the  last  mo- 
ment, and  he  might  have  got  through.  I feel  as  if  I had  deserted 
him  in  his  need  ; my  conscience  reproaches  me  bitterly.  And  yet — 
good  God  ! What  is  that  ? A black  hand  in  the  snow  ! 

With  a single  bound  I am  there.  Gondocori  follows,  and  as  I 
seize  one  hand  he  finds  and  grasps  the  other,  and  we  pull  out  of  the 
drift  the  negro’s  apparently  lifeless  body. 

“ He  is  dead,”  says  the  cacique. 

“ I don’t  think  so.  Raise  him  up,  and  let  the  sun  shine  on  him.” 

I take  out  my  pocket-flask  and  pour  a few  drops  of  aguardiente 
down  his  throat.  Presently  Gahra  sighs  and  opens  his  eyes,  and  a 
few  minutes  later  is  able  to  stand  up  and  walk  about.  He  can  tell 


A FI'IHT  FOR  LIFE . 


*4* 

very  little  of  what  passed  in  the  gully.  He  had  followed  Gondocori 
and  myself,  and  was  not  far  behind  us.  He  remembered  plunging 
into  the  snow-drift  and  struggling  on  until  he  fell  on  his  face,  and 
then  all  was  a blank.  None  of  the  Indians  were  with  him  in  the 
drift ; he  felt  sure  they  were  all  behind  him,  which  was  likely  enough, 
as  Gahra,  though  sensitive  to  cold,  was  a man  of  exceptional  bodily 
strength.  It  was  beyond  a doubt  that  all  had  perished. 

“ I left  Pachatupec  with  fifteen  braves.  I have  lost  my  braves, 
my  mules,  and  my  baggage,  and  all  I have  to  show  are  two  men,  a 
pale-face  and  a black-face.  Not  a single  maiden.  How  will  Mam- 
cuna  take  it,  I wonder  ? ” said  Gondocori,  gloomily.  “ Let  us  go  on/’ 
“You  think  she  will  be  very  angry ? ” 

“ I do.” 

“ Is  she  very  unpleasant  when  she  is  angry  ? ” 

“ She  generally  makes  it  very  unpleasant  for  others.  Her  favor- 
ite punishment  for  offenders  is  roasting  them  before  a slow  fire.” 

“ And  yet  you  propose  to  go  on  ? ” 

“ What  else  can  we  do  ? Going  back  the  way  we  came  is  out 
of  the  question,  equally  so  is  climbing  either  of  those  mountain- 
ranges.  If  we  stay  hereabout  we  shall  starve.  We  have  not  a 
morsel  of  food,  and  until  we  reach  Pachatupec  we  shall  get  none.” 

“ And  when  may  that  be  ? ” 

“ By  this  time  to-morrow.” 

“ Well,  let  us  go  on,  then ; though,  as  between  being  starved  to 
death  and  roasted  alive,  there  is  not  much  to  choose.  All  the  same, 
I should  like  to  see  this  wonderful  queen  of  whom  you  are  so  much 
afraid.” 

“ You  would  be  afraid  of  her,  too,  and  very  likely  will  be  before 
you  have  done  with  her.  Nevertheless,  you  may  find  favor  in  her 
sight,  and  I have  just  bethought  me  of  a scheme  which,  if  you  con- 
sent to  adopt  it,  may  not  only  save  our  lives,  but  bring  you  great 
honor.” 

“ And  what  is  this  scheme,  Gondocori  ? ” 

“ I will  explain  it  later.  This  is  no  time  for  talk.  We  must  push 
on  with  all  speed  or  we  shall  not  get  to  the  boats  before  nightfall.” 

“ Boats  ! You  surely  don’t  mean  to  say  that  we  are  to  travel  to 
Pachatupec  by  boats.  Boats  can  not  float  on  a frozen  mountain 
torrent ! ” 

But  the  cacique,  who  was  already  on  the  march,  made  no  answer. 


142 


Mr.  forte  sc  ub. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  CACIQUE’S  SCHEME. 

Shortly  before  sunset  we  arrived  at  our  halting-place  for  the 
night  and  point  of  departure  for  the  morrow — a hollow  in  the  hills, 
hemmed  in  by  high  rocks,  almost  circular  in  shape  and  about  a 
quarter  of  a mile  in  diameter.  The  air  was  motionless  and  the 
temperature  mild,  the  ground  covered  with  grass  and  shrubs 
and  flowers,  over  which  hovered  clouds  of  bright-winged  butter- 
flies. Low  down  in  the  hollow  was  a still  and  silent  pool,  and 
though,  so  far  as  I could  make  out,  it  had  no  exit,  two  large 
flat-bottomed  boats  and  a couple  of  canoes  were  made  fast  to  the 
side.  Hard  by  was  a hut  of  sun-dried  bricks,  in  which  were  slung 
three  or  four  grass  hammocks. 

There  was  also  fuel,  so  we  were  able  to  make  a fire  and  have  a 
good  warming,  of  which  we  stood  greatly  in  need.  But  as  nothing 
in  the  shape  of  food  could  be  found,  either  on  the  premises  or  in 
the  neighborhood,  we  had  to  go  supperless  to  bed. 

Before  we  turned  in  Gondocori  let  us  into  the  secret  of  the  scheme 
which  was  to  propitiate  Queen  Mamcuna,  and  bring  us  honor  and 
renown,  instead  of  blame  and  (possibly)  death. 

“ I shall  tell  her,”  said  the  cacique,  ‘‘that  though  I have  lost  my 
braves  and  brought  no  maidens,  I have  brought  two  famous  medi 
cine-men,  who  come  from  over  the  seas.” 

“ Very  good.  But  how  are  we  to  keep  up  the  character  ? ” 

“You  must  profess  your  ability  to  heal  the  sick  and  read  the 
stars.” 

“ Nothing  easier.  But  suppose  we  are  put  to  the  test  ? Are 
there  any  sick  imyour  country.” 

“A  few;  Mamcuna  herself  is  sick;  you  have  only  to  cure  her 
and  all  will  be  well.” 

“Very  likely;  but  how  if  I fail  ? ” 

“ Then  she  would  make  it  unpleasant  for  all  of  us.” 

“ You  mean  she  would  roast  us  by  a slow  fire  ? ” 

“ Probably.  There  is  no  telling,  though.  Our  Great  Mother  is 
very  ingenious  in  inventing  new  punishments,  and  to  those  who  de- 
ceive her  she  shows  no  mercy.” 

“ I understand.  It  is  a case  of  kill  or  cure.” 

“ Exactly.  If  you  don’t  cure  her  she  will  kill  you.” 


— 


the  caciques  scheme.  f.. 

*43 

*I  W'U  d°  my  best’  and  as  1 have  seen  a good  deal  of  practical 
surgery,  helped  to  dress  wounds  and  set  broken  limbs,  and  can  let 
blood,  you  may  truthfully  say  that  I have  some  slight  knowledge  of 
the  healing  art.  But  as  for  treating  a sick  woman—  However  I 
eave  it  to  you,  Gondocori.  If  you  choose  to  introduce  me  to  her 
ability  - “ a medidne-n,an  1 wiU  act  ‘he  part  to  the  best  of  my 

“ I ask  no  more,  senor;  and  if  you  are  fortunate  enough  to  cure 
Mamcuna  of  her  sickness—” 

“ 0r  make  her  believe  that  I have  cured  her.” 

“That  would  do  quite  as  well;  you  will  thank  me  for  bringing 
you  to  Pachatupec,  for  although  the  queen  can  make  things  very 
unpleasant  for  those  who  offend  her,  she  can  also  make  them  very 
pleasant  for  those  whom  she  likes.  And  now,  senores,  as  we  must 
to-morrow  travel  a long  way  fasting,  let  us  turn  into  our  hammocks 
and  compose  ourselves  to  sleep.” 

Excellent  advice,  which  I was  only  too  glad  to  follow.  But  we 
were  awake  long  before  daylight-for  albeit  fatigue  often  acts  as  an 
anodyne,  hunger  is  the  enemy  of  repose-and  at  the  first  streak  of 
dawn  wended  to  the  silent  pool. 

WPrf S T f 'nt°  the  Can0e  selected  by  Gondocori  (the  boats 

,,  ^ n W f°r  the  transP°rt  of  mules  and  horses)  I found 
that  the  water  was  warm,  and,  on  tasting  it,  I perceived  a strong 
mineral  flavor.  The  pool  was  a thermal  spring,  and  its  high  tem- 
perature fully  accounted  for  the  fertility  of  the  hollow  and  the  mild- 
ness of  the  air.  But  how  were  we  to  get  out  of  it  ? For  look  as  I 
might,  I could  see  no  signs  either  of  an  outlet  or  a current.  Gon- 
ocon  who  acted  as  pilot,  quickly  solved  the  mystery.  A buttress 
of  rock  which  m the  distance  looked  like  a part  of  the  mass 

waTth^  the  6ntranCe  t0  a narrow  waterway.  Down  this  water- 
way the  cacique  navigated  the  canoe.  It  ran  in  tortuous  course  be- 

sirhTnf  * ? SU  that  at  tim6S  We  COuld  see  nothinS  »ve  a 
strip  of  purple  sxy,  studded  with  stars.  Here  and  there  the 

channel  widened  out,  and  we  caught  a glimpse  of  the  sun  ; and  at 
an  immeasurable  height  above  us  towered  the  nevados  (snowy 
slopes)  of  the  Cordillera.  ^ y 

The  stream,  if  that  can  be  called  a stream  which  does  not  move, 
had  many  branches,  and  we  could  well  believe,  as  Gondocori  told  us, 
t it  was  as  easy  to  lose  one’s  self  in  this  watery  labyrinth  as  in  a 
tropical  forest.  In  all  Pachatupec  there  were  not  ten  men  besides 


MR.  FORTE SCUE. 


144 

himself  who  could  pilot  a boat  through  its  windings.  He  told  US, 
also,  that  this  was  the  only  pass  between  the  eastern  and  western 
Cordillera  in  that  part  of  the  Andes,  that  the  journey  from  San 
Andrea  to  Pachatupec  by'any  other  route  would  be  an  affair  not  of 
days  but  of  weeks.  The  water  was  always  warm  and  never  froze. 
Whence  it  came  nobody  could  tell.  Not  from  the  melting  of  the  snow, 
for  snow-water  was  cold,  and  this  was  always  warm,  winter  and 
summer.  For  his  own  part  he  thought  its  source  was  a spring, 
heated  by  volcanic  fires,  and  many  others  thought  the  same.  Its 
depth  was  unknown ; he  himself  had  tried  to  fathom  it  with  the 
longest  line  he  could  find  yet  had  never  succeeded  in  touching 
ground. 

Meanwhile  we  were  making  good  progress,  sometimes  paddling, 
sometimes  poling  (where  the  channel  was  narrow)  and  toward 
evening  when,  as  I reckoned,  we  had  traveled  about  sixty  miles,  we 
shot  suddenly  into  a charming  little  lake  with  sylvan  banks  and  a 
sandy  beach. 

Gondocori  made  fast  the  canoe  to  a tree,  and  we  stepped  ashore. 

We  are  on  the  summit  of  a spur  which  stands  out  like  a bastion 
from  the  imposing  mass  of  the  Cordillera,  through  the  very  heart  of 
which  runs  the  mysterious  waterway  we  have  just  traversed.  Two 
thousand  feet  or  more  below  is  a broad  plain,  bounded  on  the  west 
by  a range  of  gaunt  and  treeless  hills  ribbed  with  contorted  rocks, 
which  stretch  north  and  south  farther  than  the  eye  can  reach.  The 
plain  is  cultivated  and  inhabited.  There  are  huts,  fields,  orchards, 
and  streams,  and  about  a league  from  the  foot  of  the  bastion  is  a 
large  village. 

“ Pachatupec  ? ” I asked. 

“ Si,  senor,  that  is  Pachatupec,  a very  fair  land,  as  you  see,  and 
yonder  is  Pachacamac,  where  dwells  our  queen,”  said  Gondocori, 
pointing  to  the  village ; and  then  he  fell  into  a brown  study,  as  if  he 
was  not  quite  sure  what  to  do  next. 

The  sight  of  his  home  did  not  seem  to  rejoice  the  cacique  as 
much  as  might  be  supposed.  The  approaching  interview  with 
Mamcuna  was  obviously  weighing  heavily  on  his  soul,  and,  to  tell 
the  truth,  I rather  shared  his  apprehensions.  A savage  queen  with 
a sharp  temper  who  occasionally  roasted  people  alive  was  not  to  be 
trifled  with.  But  as  delay  was  not  likely  to  help  us,  and  I detest 
suspense,  and,  moreover,  felt  very  hungry,  I suggested  that  we  had 
better  go  on  to  Pachacamac  forthwith. 


THE  CACIQUE'S  SCHEME . 145 

ri  Perhaps  we  had.  Yes,  let  us  get  it  over,”  he  said,  with  a 
sigh. 

After  descending  the  bastion  by  a steep  zigzag  we  turned  into  a 
pleasant  foot-path,  shaded  by  trees,  and  as  we  neared  our  destina- 
tion we  met  (among  other  people)  two  tall  Indians,  whose  condor- 
skull  helmets  denoted  their  lordly  rank.  On  recognizing  Gondocori 
(who  had  lost  his  helmet  in  the  snow-storm  and  looked  otherwise 
much  dilapidated)  their  surprise  was  literally  unspeakable.  They 
first  stared  and  then  gesticulated.  When  at  length  they  found  their 
tongues  they  overwhelmed  him  with  questions,  eying  Gahra  and 
me  the  while  as  if  we  were  wild  animals.  After  a short  conversa- 
tion of  which,  being  in  their  own  language,  I could  only  guess  the 
purport,  the  two  caciques  turned  back  and  accompanied  us  to  the 
village.  Save  that  there  was  no  sign  of  a church,  it  differed  little 
from  many  other  villages  which  I had  met  with  in  my  travels. 
There'  were  huts,  mere  roofs  on  stilts,  cottages  of  wattle  and  dab, 
and  flat-roofed  houses  built  of  sun-dried  bricks.  Streets,  there  were 
none,  the  buildings  being  all  over  the  place,  as  if  they  had  dropped 
from  the  sky  or  sprung  up  hap-hazard  from  the  ground. 

About  midway  in  the  village  one  of  the  caciques  left  us  to  in- 
form the  queen  of  our  arrival  and  to  ask  her  pleasure  as  to  my  re- 
ception. The  other  cacique  asked  us  into  his  house,  and  offered  us 
refreshments.  Of  what  the  dishes  set  before  us  were  composed  I 
had  only  the  vaguest  idea,  but  hunger  is  not  fastidious  and  we  ate 
with  a will. 

We  had  hardly  finished  when  cacique  number  one,  entering  in 
breathless  haste  announced  that  Queen  Mamcuna  desired  to  see  us 
immediately,  whereupon  I suggested  to  Gondocori  the  expediency 
of  donning  more  courtly  attire,  if  there  was  any  to  be  got. 

“ What,  keep  the  queen  waiting ! ” he  exclaimed,  aghast.  “ She 
would  go  mad.  Impossible  ! We  must  go  as  we  are.” 

Not  wanting  her  majesty  to  go  mad  I made  no  further  demur, 
and  we  went. 

The  palace  was  a large  adobe  building  within  a walled  inclosure, 
guarded  by  a company  of  braves  with  long  spears.  We  were 
ushered  into  the  royal  presence  without  either  ceremony  or  delay. 
The  queen  was  sitting  in  a hammock  with  her  feet  resting  on  the 
ground.  She  wore  a bright-colored,  loosely-fitting  bodice,  a skirt  to 
match,  and  sandals.  Her  long  black  hair  was  arranged  in  tails,  of 
which  there  were  seven  on  each  side  of  her  face.  She  was  short 
10 


MR.  FORTE  SCUE. 


I46 

and  stout,  and  perhaps  thirty  years  old,  and  though  in  early  youth 
she  might  have  been  well  favored,  her  countenance  now  bore  the 
impress  of  evil  passions,  and  the  sodden  look  of  it,  as  also  the  blood- 
streaks  in  her  eyes,  showed  that  her  drink  was  not  always  water. 
At  the  same  time,  it  was  a powerful  face,  indicative,  of  a strong 
character  and  a resolute  will.  Her  complexion  was  bright  cinnamon, 
and  the  three  or  four  women  by  whom  she  was  attended  were  cos- 
tumed like  herself. 

On  entering  the  room  the  three  caciques  went  on  their  knees, 
and  after  a moment’s  hesitation  Gahra  followed  their  example.  I 
thought  it  quite  enough  to  make  my  best  bow.  Mamcuna  then 
motioned  us  to  draw  nearer,  and  when  we  were  within  easy  speak- 
ing distance  she  said  something  to  Gondocori  that  sounded  like  a 
question  or  a command,  on  which  he  made  a long  and,  as  I judged 
from  the  vigor  of  his  gesture  and  the  earnestness  of  his  manner,  an 
eloquent  speech.  I watched  her  closely  and  was  glad  to  see  that 
though  she  frowned  once  or  twice  during  its  delivery  she  did  not 
seem  very  angry.  I also  observed  that  she  looked  at  me  much  more 
than  at  the  cacique,  which  I took  to  be  a favorable  sign.  *The 
speech  was  followed  by  a lively  dialogue  between  Mamcuna  and  the 
cacique,  after  which  the  latter  turned  to  me  and  said,  as  coolly  as  if 
he  were  asking  me  to  be  seated  : 

“ The  queen  commands  you  to  strip.” 

“ Commands  me  to’  strip  ! What  do  you  mean  ? ” 

“ What  I say ; you  have  to  strip — undress,  take  off  your  clothes/* 
“ You  are  joking.” 

“Joking ! I should  like  to  see  the  man  who  would  dare  to  take 
such  a liberty  in  the  audience-chamber  of  our  Great  Mother.  Pray 
don’t  make  words  about  it,  senor.  Take  off  your  clothes  without 
any  more  bother,  or  she  will  be  getting  angry.” 

“ Let  her  get  angry.  I shall  do  nothing  of  the  sort — No, 
don’t  say  that ; say  that  English  gentlemen — I mean  pale-face  medi- 
cine-men from  over  the  seas,  never  undress  in  the  presence  of  ladies, 
their  religion  forbids  it.” 

Gondocori  was  about  to  remonstrate  again  when  the  queen  inter- 
posed and  insisted  on  knowing  what  I said.  When  she  heard  that 
I refused  to  obey  her  behest  she  turned  purple  with  rage,  and  looked 
as  if  she  would  annihilate  me.  Then  her  mood,  or  her  mind,  chang- 
ing, she  laughed  loudly,  at  the  same  time  pointing  to  the  door  and 
making  an  observation  to  the  cacique. 


THE  CACIQUE'S  SCHEME. 


147 

Having  meanwhile  reflected  that  I was  not  in  an  English  draw- 
ing-room, that  this  wretched  woman  could  have  me  stripped  whether 
I would  or  no,  and  that  refusal  to  comply  with  her  wishes  might 
cost  me  my  life,  I asked  Gondocori  why  the  queen  wanted  me  to 
undress. 

“ She  wants  to  see  whether  your  body  is  as  hairy  as  your  face 
(I  had  not  shaved  since  I left  Naperima),  and  your  face  as  fair  as 
your  body.” 

“Will  it  satisfy  her  if  I meet  her  half-way— strip  to  the  waist? 
You  can  say  that  I never  did  as  much  for  any  woman  before,  and 
that  I would  not  ao  it  for  the  queen  of  my  own  country,  whatever 
might  be  the  consequence.” 

The  cacique  interpreted  my  proposal,  and  Mamcuna  smiled  as- 
sent. “ The  queen  says,  ‘ let  it  be  as  you  say  ’ ; and  she  charges  me 
to  tell  you  that  she  is  very  much  pleased  to  know  that  you  will  do 
for  her  what  you  would  not  do  for  any  other  woman.” 

On  that  I took  off  my  upper  garments  and  Mamcuna,  rising 
from  her  hammock,  examined  me  as  closely  as  a military  surgeon 
examines  a freshly  caught  recruit.  She  felt  the  muscles  of  my  arms, 
thumped  my  chest,  took  note  of  the  width  of  my  back,  punched  my 
ribs,  and  finally  pulled  a few  hairs  out  of  my  beard.  Then,  smiling 
approval,  she  retired  to  her  chinchura. 

“ You  may  put  on  your  clothes;  the  inspection  is  over,”  said 
Gondocori.  “ I am  glad  it  has  passed  off  so  well.  I was  rather 
afraid,  though,  when  she  began  to  pinch  you.” 

“ Afraid  of  what  ? ” 

“ Well,  the  queen  is  rather  curious  about  skin  and  color  and 
that,  and  does  curious  things  sometimes.  She  once  had  a strip  of 
skin  cut  out  of  a mestiza  maiden's  back,  to  see  whether  it  was  the 
same  color  on  both  sides.  But  she  seems  to  have  taken  quite  a 
liking  for  you  ; says  you  are  the  prettiest  man  she  ever  saw ; 
and  if  you  cure  her  of  her  illness  I have  no  doubt  she  will  give  you 
a condor’s  skull  helmet  and  make  you  a cacique.” 

“ I am  greatly  obliged  to  her  Majesty,  I am  sure,  and  very  thank- 
ful she  did  not  take  a fancy  to  cut  a piece  out  of  my  back.  As  for 
curing  her,  I must  first  of  all  know  what  is  the  matter.” 

“ Shall  I ask  her  to  describe  her  symptoms  ?*” 

“ If  y°u  please.”  In  reply  to  the  questions  which  I put,  through 
Gondocori,  the  queen  said  that  she  suffered  from  headache,  nausea, 
and  sleeplessness,  and  that,  whereas  only  a few  years  ago  she  was 


MR,  FOR  RESCUE, 


48 

lithe,  active,  and  gay,  she  was  now  heavy,  indolent,  and  melancholy, 
adding  that  she  had  suffered  much  at  the  hands  of  the  late  court 
medicine-man,  who  did  not  understand  her  case  at  all,  and  that  to 
punish  him  for  his  ignorance  and  presumption  she  made  him  swal- 
low a jarful  of  his  own  physic,  from  the  effects  of  which  he  shortly 
afterward  expired  in  great  agony.  The  place  was- now  vacant,  and 
if  I succeeded  in  restoring  her  to  health  she  would  make  me  his 
successor  and  always  have  me  near  her  person. 

I can  not  say  that  I regarded  this  prospect  as  particularly  en- 
couraging ; nevertheless,  I tried  to  look  pleased  and  told  Gondocori 
to  assure  the  queen  of  my  gratitude  and  devotion,  and  ask  her  to 
show  me  her  tongue.  He  put  this  request  with  evident  reluctance, 
and  Mamcuna  made  an  angry  reply. 

“ I knew  how  it  would  be,”  said  the  cacique,  “You  have  put 
her  in  a rage.  She  thinks  you  want  to  insult  her,  and  absolutely 
refuses  to  make  herself  hideous  by  sticking  out  her  tongue.” 

“ She  will  of  course  do  as  she  pleases.  But  unless  she  shows 
me  her  tongue  I can  not  cure  her.  I shall  not  even  try.  Tell 
her  so.” 

To  tell  the  truth  I had  really  no  great  desire  to  look  at  the 
woman’s  tongue,  but  having  made  the  request  I meant  to  stand  to 
my  guns. 

After  some  further  parley  she  yielded,  first  of  all  making  the 
three  caciques  and  Gahra  look  the  other  way.  The  appearance  of 
her  tongue  confirmed  the  theory  I had  already  formed  that  she  was 
suffering  from  dyspepsia,  brought  on  by  overeating  and  a too  free 
indulgence  in  the  wine  of  the  country  (a  sort  of  cider)  and  indolent 
habits. 

I said  that  if  she  would  follow  my  instructions  I had  no  doubt 
that  I could  not  only  cure  her  but  make  her  as  lithe  and  active  as 
ever  she  was.  Remembering,  however,  that  as  even  the  highly 
civilized  people  object  to  be  made  whole  without  physic  and  fuss, 
and  that  the  queen  would  certainly  not  be  satisfied  with  a simple 
recommendation  to  take  less  food  and  more  exercise,  I observed 
that  before  I could  say  anything  further  I must  gather  plants,  make 
decoctions,  and  consult  the  stars,  and  that  my  black  colleague 
should  prepare  a charm,  which  would  greatly  increase  the  potency 
of  my  remedies  and  the  chances  of  her  recovery. 

Mamcuna  answered  that  I talked  like  a medicine-man  who  under- 
stood his  business  and  her  case,  that  she  would  strictly  obey  my 


YOU  ARE  THE  MAN . 


149 

orders,  and  so  soon  as  she  felt  better  give  me  a condor’s  skull  hel- 
met. Meanwhile,  I was  to  take  up  my  quarters  in  her  own  house, 
and  she  ordered  the  caciques  to  send  me  forthwith  three  suits  of 
clothes,  my  own,  as  she  rightly  remarked,  not  being  suitable  for  a 
man  of  my  position. 

“ Now,  did  not  I tell  you  ? ” said  Gondocori,  as  we  left  the  room. 
“ Oh,  we  are  going  on  swimmingly ; and  it  is  all  my  doing.  I do 
believe  that  if  I had  not  protested  that  you  were  the  greatest  medi- 
cine-man in  the  world,*  and  had  come  expressly  to  cure  her,  she 
would  have  had  you  roasted  or  ripped  up  by  the  man-killer  or 
turned  adrift  in  the  desert,  or  something  equally  diabolical.  Your 
fate  is  in  your  own  hands  now.  If  you  fail  to  make  good  your 
promises,  it  will  be  out  of  my  power  to  help  you.  You  heard  how 
she  treated  your  predecessor.” 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

YOU  ARE  THE  MAN. 

Early  next  morning  I sent  Gahra  secretly  up  to  the  lake  on 
the  bastion  for  a jar  of  chalybeate  water,  which,  after  being  colored 
with  red  earth  and  flavored  with  wild  garlic,  was  nauseous  enough 
to  satisfy  the  most  exacting  of  physic  swallowers.  Then  the  negro 
sacrificed  a cock  in  the  royal  presence,  and  performed  an  incanta- 
tion in  the  most  approved  African  fashion,  and  we  made  the  creat- 
ure’s claws  and  comb  into  an  amulet,  which  I requested  the  queen 
to  hang  round  her  neck. 

This  done,  I gave  my  instructions,  assuring  her  that  if  she  failed 
in  any  particular  to  observe  them  my  efforts  would  be  vain,  and  her 
cure  impossible.  She  was  to  drink  nothing  but  water  and  physic 
(of  the  latter  very  little),  eat  animal  food  only  once  a day,  and  that 
sparingly,  and  walk  two  hours  every  morning ; and  finding  that  she 
could  ride  on  horseback  (like  a man),  though  she  had  lately  aban- 
doned the  exercise,  I told  her  to  ride  two  hours  every  evening.  I 
also  laid  down  other  rules,  purposely  making  them  onerous  and 
hard  to  be  observed,  partly  because  I knew  that  a strict  regimen 
was  necessary  for  her  recovery,  partly  to  leave  myself  a loop-hole,  in 
the  event  of  her  not  recovering,  for  I felt  pretty  sure  that  she  would 


MR.  FORTE  SC  UE . 


ISO 

not  do  all  that  I had  bidden  her,  and  if  she  came  short  in  any  one 
thing  I should  have  an  excuse  ready  to  my  hand. 

But  to  my  surprise  she  did  not  come  short.  For  Mamcuna  to 
give  up  her  cider  and  her  flesh  pots,  and,  flabby  and  fat  as  she 
was,  to  walk  and  ride  four  hours  every  day,  must  have  been  very 
hard,  yet  she  conformed  to  regulations  with  rare  resolution  and  self- 
denial.  As  a natural  consequence  she  soon  began  to  mend,  at  first 
slowly  and  almost  imperceptibly,  afterward  rapidly  and  visibly,  as 
much  to  my  satisfaction  as  hers ; for  if  my  treatment  had  failed,  I 
could  not  have  said  that  the  fault  was  hers. 

Meanwhile  I was  picking  up  information  about  her  people  and 
acquiring  a knowledge  of  their  language,  and  as  I was  continually 
hearing  it  spoken  I was  soon  able  to  make  myself  understood. 

The  Pachatupecs,  though  heathens  and  savages,  were  more  civil- 
ized than  any  of  the  so-called  Indios  civilizcidos  with  whom  I had 
come  in  contact.  They  were  clean  as  to  their  persons,  bathing  fre- 
quently, and  not  filthy  in  their  dwellings ; they  raised  crops,  reared 
cattle,  and  wore  clothing,  which  for  the  caciques  consisted  of  a tu- 
nic of  quilted  cotton,  breeches  loose  at  the  knees,  and  sandals. 
The  latter  virtue  may,  however,  have  been  due  to  the  climate,  for 
though  the  days  were  warm  the  nights  were  chilly,  and  the  winters 
at  times  rather  severe,  the  country  being  at  a considerable  height 
above  the  level  of  the  sea.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Pachatupecs 
were  truculent,  gluttonous,  and  not  very  temperate ; they  practiced 
polygamy,  and  all  the  hard  work  devolved  on  the  women,  whose 
husbands  often  brutally  ill-used  them.  It  was  contrary  to  etiquette 
to  ask  a man  questions  about  his  wives,  and  if  you  went  to  a ca- 
cique’s house  you  were  expected  either  to  ignore  their  presence  or 
treat  them  as  slaves,  as  indeed  they  were,  and  the  condition  of  cap- 
tive Christian  girls  was  even  worse  than  that  of  the  native  women. 

Considering  the  light  esteem  in  which  women  were  held  I was 
surprised  that  the  Pachatupecs  consented  to  be  ruled  by  one  of  the 
sex.  But  Gondocori  told  me  that  Mamcuna  came  of  a long  line  of 
princes  who  were  supposed  to  be  descended  from  the  Incas,  and 
when  her  father  died,  leaving  no  male  issue,  a majority  of  the  ca- 
ciques chose  her  as  his  successor,  in  part  out  of  reverence  for  the 
race,  in  part  out  of  jealousy  of  each  other  and  because  they  thought 
she  would  let  them  do  pretty  much  as  they  liked.  So  far  from  that, 
however,  she  made  them  do  as  she  liked,  and  when  some  of  the 
caciques  raised  a rebellion  she  too!<  the  field  in  person,  beat  them  jn 


YOU  ARE  THE  MAN. 


ISI 

a pitched  battle,  and  put  all  the  leaders  and  many  of  their  followers 
to  death.  Since  that  time  there  had  been  no  serious  attempt  to  dis- 
pute her  authority,  which,  so  far  as  I could  gather,  she  used,  on  the 
whole,  to  good  purpose.  Though  cruel  and  vindictive,  she  was  also 
shrewd  and  resolute,  and  semi-civilized  races  are  not  ruled  with  rose- 
water. She  could  only  maintain  order  by  making  herself  feared,  and 
even  civilized  governments  often  act  on  the  principle  that  the  end 
justifies  the  means. 

Mamcuna  had  never  married  because,  as  she  said,  there  was  no 
man  in  the  country  fit  to  mate  with  a daughter  of  the  Incas  ; but  as 
Gondocori  and  some  others  thought,  the  man  did  not  exist  with 
whom  she  would  consent  to  share  her  power. 

The  Pachatupec  braves  were  fine  horsemen  and  expert  with  the 
lasso  and  the  spear  and  very  fair  archers.  They  were  bold  mount- 
aineers, too,  and  occasionally  made  long  forays  as  far  as  the  pampas, 
where,  I presume,  they  had  brought  the  progenitors  of  the  nandus , 
of  which  there  were  a considerable  number  in  the  country,  both 
wild  and  tame.  The  latter  were  sometimes  ridden,  but  rather  as  a 
feat  than  a pleasuie.  The  largest  flock  belonged  to  the  queen. 

By  the  time  I had  so  far  mastered  the  language  as  to  be  able  to 
converse  without  much  difficulty,  the  queen  had  fully  regained  her 
health.  This  result  which  was  of  course  entirely  due  to  temper- 
ate living  and  regular  exercise— she  ascribed  to  my  skill,  and  I was 
in  high  favor.  She  made  me  a cacique  and  court  medicine-man;  I 
had  quarters  in  her  house,  and  horses  and  servants  were  always  at 
my  disposal.  Had  her  Majesty’s  gratitude  gone  no  further  than  this 
I should  have  had  nothing  to  complain  of ; but  she  never  let  me 
alone,  and  I had  no  peace.  I was  continually  being  summoned  to 
her  presence ; she  kept  me  talking  for  hours  at  a time,  and  never 
went  out  for  a ride  or  a walk  without  making  me  bear  her  company. 
Her  attentions  became  so  marked,  in  fact,  that  I began  to  have  an 
awful  fear  that  she  had  fallen  in  love  with  me.  As  to  this  she  did 
not  leave  me  long  in  doubt. 

One  day,  when  I had  been  entertaining  her  with  an  account  of 
my  travels,  she  startled  me  by  inquiring,  a ftroftos  to  nothing  in  par- 
ticular, if  I knew  why  she  had  not  married. 

“ Because  you  are  a daughter  of  the  Incas,  and  there  is  no  man 
in  Pachatupec  of  equal  rank  with  yourself.” 

“ Once  there  was  not,  but  now  there  is.” 

I breathed  again ; she  surely  could  not  mean  me. 


152 


MR.  FORTE  SC  UE . 


“ There  is  now — there  has  been  for  some  time,”  she  continued 
after  a short  pause.  “ Know  you  who  he  is  ? ” 

I said  that  I had  not  the  slightest  idea. 

“ Yourself,  senor;  you  are  the  man.” 

“ Impossible,  Mamcuna ! I am  of  very  inferior  rank,  indeed — a 
common  soldier,  a mere  nobody. 

“You  are  too  modest,  serior;  you  do  yourself  an  injustice.  A 
man  with  so  white  a skin,  a beard  so  long,  and  eyes  so  beautiful 
must  be  of  royal  lineage,  and  fit  to  mate  even  with  a daughter  of  the 
Incas.” 

“You  are  quite  mistaken,  Mamcuna;  I am  utterly  unworthy  of 
so  great  an  honor.” 

“You  are  not,  I tell  .you.  Please  don’t  contradict  me,  senor” 
(she  always  called  me  “senor”);  “it  makes  me  angry.  You  are 
the  man  whom  I delight  to  honor  and  desire  to  wed ; what  would 
you  have  more  ? ” 

“'Nothing — I would  not  have  so  much.  You  are  too  good;  but 
it  would  be  wrong.  I really  can  not  let  you  throw  yourself  away  on 
a nameless  foreigner.  Besides,  what  would  your  caciques  say  ? ” 

“If  any  man  dares  say  a word  against  you  I will  have  his  tongue 
torn  out  by  the  roots.” 

“ But  suppose  I am  married  already— that  I have  left  a wife  in 
my  own  country?  ” I urged,  in  desperation. 

“ That  would  not  matter  in  the  least.  She  is  not  likely  to  come 
hither,  and  I will  take  care  that  I am  your  only  wife  in  this  country.” 

“Your  condescension  quite  overwhelms  me.  But  all  this  is  so 
sudden ; you  must  really  give  me  a little  time — ” 

“A  little  time!  why?  You  perhaps  think  I am  not  sincere, 
that  I do  not  mean  what  I say,  that  I may  change  my  mind.  Have 
no  fear  on  that  score.  There  shall  be  no  delay.  The  preparations 
for  our  wedding  shall  be  begun  at  once,  and  ten  days  hence,  dear 
senor,  you  will  be  my  husband.” 

What  could  I say?  I had,  of  course,  no  intention  of  marrying 
her — I would  as  lief  have  married  a leopardess.  But  had  I given 
her  a peremptory  negative  she  might  have  had  me  laid  by  the  heels 
without  more  ado,  or  worse.  So  I bowed  my  head  and  held  my 
tongue,  resolving  at  the  same  time  that,  before  the  expiration  of  the 
ten  days’  respite,  I would  get  out  of  the  country  or  perish  in  the  at- 
tempt, Whereupon  Mamcuna,  taking  my  silence  for  consent, 
showed  great  delight,  patted  me  on  the  back,  caressed  my  beard, 


IN  THE  TOILS. 


153 

fondled  my  hands,  and  called  me  her  lord.  Fortunately,  kissing  was 
not  an  institution  in  Pachatupec. 

One  good  result  of  our  betrothal,  if  I may  so  call  it,  was  that 
the  preparations  for  the  wedding  took  up  so  much  of  Mamcuna’s 
time  that  she  had  none  left  for  me,  and  I had  leisure  and  opportu- 
nity to  contrive  a plan  of  escape,  if  I could,  for,  as  I quickly  discov- 
ered, the  difficulties  in  the  way  were  almost  if  not  altogether  insur- 
mountable. I could  neither  go  back  to  the  eastern  Cordillera  by  the 
road  I had  come,  nor,  without  guides,  find  any  other  pass,  either 
farther  north  or  farther  south.  Westward  was  a range  of  barren 
hills  bounded  by  a sandy  desert,  destitute  of  life  or  the  means  of 
supporting  life,  and  stretching  to  the  desolate  Pacific  coast,  whence, 
even  if  I could  reach  it,  I should  have  no  means  of  getting  away. 

There  was,  moreover,  nobody  to  whom  I could  appeal  for  coun- 
sel or  help.  Gondocori  thought  me  the  most  fortunate  of  men,  and 
was  quite  incapable  of  understanding  my  scruples.  Gahra,  albeit 
willing  to  go  with  me,  knew  no  more  of  the  country  than  I did,  and 
there  was  not  a man  in  it  who  could  have  been  induced  even  by  a 
bribe  either  to  act  as  my  guide  or  otherwise  connive  at  my  escape  ; 
and  I had  no  inducement  to  offer. 

Nevertheless,  the  opportunity  I was  looking  for  came,  as  oppor- 
tunities often  do  come,  spontaneously  and  unexpectedly,  yet  in 
shape  so  questionable  that  it  was  open  to  doubt  whether,  if  I ac- 
cepted it,  my  second  condition  would  not  be  worse  than  my  first. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

IN  THE  TOILS. 

Five  days  after  I had  been  wooed  by  the  irresistible  Mamcuna, 
and  as  I was  beginning  to  fear  that  I should  have  to  marry  her  first 
and  run  away  afterward,  I chanced  to  be  riding  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  village,  when  a woman  darted  out  of  the  thicket  and,  stand- 
ing before  my  horse,  held  up  her  arms  imploringly.  I had  never 
spoken  to  her,  but  I knew  her  as  the  white  wife  of  one  of  the  ca- 
ciques. 

“ Save  me,  senor ! ” she  exclaimed,  “ for  the  love  of  heaven  and 
in  the  name  of  our  common  Christianity,  I implore  you  to  save  me ! ” 


154 


MR.  FORTE  SC  US, 


“From  what?  ” 

“ From  my  wretched  life,  from  despair,  degradation,  and  death/’ 
And  then  she  told  me  that,  while  traveling  in  the  mountains  with 
her  husband,  a certain  Senor  de  la  Vega,  and  several  friends,  they 
were  set  upon  by  a band  of  Pachatupecs  who,  after  killing  all  the 
male  members  of  the  party,  carried  her  off  and  brought  her  to 
Pachacamac,  where  she  had  been  compelled  to  become  one  of  the 
wives  of  the  cacique  Chimu,  and  that  between  his  brutality  and 
the  jealousy  of  the  other  women,  her  life,  apart  from  its  ignominy, 
was  so  utterly  wretched  that,  unless  she  could  escape,  she  must 
either  go  mad  or  be  driven  to  commit  suicide. 

“ I should  be  only  too  glad  to  rescue  you  if  I could.  I want  to 
escape  myself;  but  how?  I see  no  way.” 

“ It  is  not  so  difficult  as  you  think,  senor ; if  we  can  get  horses 
and  a few  hours’  start,  I will  act  as  guide  and  lead  you  to  a civilized 
settlement,  where  we  shall  be  safe  from  pursuit.  I know  the  coun- 
try well.” 

“ Are  you  quite  sure  you  can  do  this,  senora  ? It  will  be  a haz- 
ardous enterprise,  remember.” 

“ Quite  sure.” 

“ And  you  are  prepared  to  incur  the  risk  ? ” 

“ I will  run  any  risk  rather  than  stay  where  I am.” 

“ Very  well,  I will  see  what  can  be  done.  Meet  me  here  to- 
morrow at  this  hour.  And  now,  we  had  better  separate  ; if  we  are 
seen  together  it  will  be  bad  for  both  of  us.  Hasta  manana .” 

And  then  she  went  her  Way  and  I went  mine. 

I had  said  truly  “a  hazardous  enterprise.”  Hazardous  and  diffi- 
cult in  any  circumstances,  the  hazard  and  the  difficulty  would  be 
greatly  increased  by  the  presence  of  a woman;  and  the  fact  of  a 
cacique’s  wife  being  one  of  the  companions  of  my  flight  would  add 
to  the  inveteracy  of  the  pursuit.  I greatly  doubted,  moreover, 
whether  Senora  de  la  Vega  knew  the  country  as  well  as  she  as- 
serted. She  was  so  sick  of  her  wretched  condition  that  she  would 
say  or  do  anything  to  get  away  from  it — and  no  wonder.  But  was 
I justified  in  letting  her  run  the  risk  ? The  punishment  of  a woman 
who  deserted  her  husband  was  death  by  burning ; were  Senora  de 
la  Vega  caught,  this  punishment  would  be  undoubtedly  inflicted; 
were  it  even  suspected  that  she  had  met  me  or  any  other  man;  se- 
cretly, Chimu  would  almost  certainly  kill  her.  Pachatupec  hus- 
bands had  the  power  q{  life  and  death  oyer  their  wives,  and  they 


IN  THE  TOILS , 


iS5 

were  as  jealous  and  as  cruel  as  Moors,  Yet  death  were  better  than 
the  life  she  was  compelled  to  lead,  and  as  she  was  fully  cognizant 
of  the  risk  it  seemed  my  duty  to  do  all  that  I could  to  facilitate  her 
escape. 

Then  another  thought  occurred  to  me.  Could  this  be  a trap,  a 
“put  up  job,”  as  the  phrase  goes.  Though  the  caciques  had  not 
dared  to  make  any  open  protest  against  Mamcuna’s  matrimonial 
project,  I knew  that  they  were  bitterly  opposed  to  it,  and  nothing,  I 
felt  sure,  would  please  them  better  than  to  kindle  the  queens  jeal- 
ousy by  making  it  appear  that  I was  engaged  in  an  intrigue  with  one 
of  Chi  mu’s  wives. 

Yet  no,  I could  not  believe  it.  No  Christian  woman  would  play 
so  base  a part.  Senora  de  la  Vega  could  have  no  interest  in  betray- 
ing me.  She  hated  her  savage  husband  too  heartily  to  be  the  vol- 
untary instrument  of  my  destruction,  and  she  was  so  utterly  wretched 
that  I pitied  her  from  my  soul. 

A creole  of  pure  Spanish  blood  and  noble  family,  bereft  of  her 
husband,  forced  to  become  the  slave  of  a brutal  Indian  and  the  con- 
stant associate  of  hardly  less  brutal  women,  painfully  conscious  of 
her  degradation,  hopeless  of  any  amendment  of  her  lot,  poor  Senora 
de  la  Vega’s  fate  would  have  touched  the  hardest  heart.  And  she 
had  little  children  at  home ! My  suspicions  vanished  even  more 
quickly  than  they  had  been  conceived,  and  before  I reached  my  quar- 
ters I had  decided  that,  come  what  might,  the  attempt  should  be 
made. 

The  next  question  was  how  and  when.  Clearly,  the  sooner  the 
better ; but  whether  we  had  better  set  off  at  sunrise  or  sunset  was 
open  to  doubt.  By  leaving  at  sunset  we  should  be  less  easily  fol- 
lowed ; on  the  other  hand,  we  should  have  greater  difficulty  in  find- 
ing our  way,  and  be  sooner  missed.  It  was  generally  about  sunset 
that  Mamcuna  sent  for  me,  and  I knew  that  at  this  time  it  would  be 
well-nigh  impossible  for  Senora  de  la  Vega  to  leave  Chimu’s  house 
without  being  observed  and  questioned,  perhaps  followed.  So  when 
we  met  as  agreed,  I told  her  that  I had  decided  to  make  the  attempt 
on  the  next  morning,  and  asked  her  to  be  in  a grove  of  plantains, 
hard  by,  an  hour  before  dawn.  I besought  her,  whatever  she  did, 
to  be  punctual ; our  lives  depended  on  our  stealing  away  before 
people  were  stirring. 

Meanwhile  Gahra  and  I had  laid  our  plans.  He  was  to  give 
oiit  the  night  before  that  we  were  setting  off  early  next  morning 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


156 

on  a hunting  expedition.  This  would  enable  us,  without  exciting 
suspicion,  to  take  a supply  of  provisions,  arms,  and  a led  horse  (for 
carrying  any  game  we  might  kill)  and,  as  I hoped,  give  us  a long 
start.  For  even  when  Senora  de  la  Vega  was  missed  nobody  would 
suspect  that  she  had  gone  with  us. 

In  the  event — as  we  hoped,  the  improbable  event — of  our  being 
overtaken  or  intercepted,  Gahra  and  I were  resolved  not  to  be  taken 
alive ; but  we  had,  unfortunately,  no  firearms  ; they  were  all  lost 
in  the  snow-storm.  Our  only  weapons  were  bows  and  arrows  and 
machetes.  I carried  the  former  merely  as  a make-believe,  to  keep 
up  my  character  as  hunter  ; for  the  same  reason  we  took  with  us  a 
brace  of  dogs.  If  it  came  to  fighting  I should  have  to  put  my  trust 
in  my  machete , a long  broad-bladed  sword  like  a knife,  formidable 
as  a lethal  weapon,  yet  chiefly  used  for  clearing  away  brambles  and 
cutting  down  trees. 

All  went  well  at  the  beginning.  We  were  up  betimes  and  off 
with  our  horses  before  daylight.  The  braves  on  duty  asked  no 
questions,  there  was  no  reason  why  they  should,  and  we  passed 
through  the  village  without  meeting  a soul. 

So  far,  good.  The  omens  seemed  favorable,  and  my  hopes  ran 
high.  We  should  get  off  without  anybody  knowing  which  way  we 
had  taken,  and  several  hours  before  Senora  de  la  Vega  was  likely  to 
be  missed. 

But  when  we  reached  the  rendezvous  she  was  not  there.  I 
whistled  and  called  softly ; nobody  answered, 

“ She  will  he  here  presently,  we  must  wait,”  I said  to  Gahra, 

It  was  terribly  annoying.  Every  minute  was  precious.  The 
Pachatupecs  are  early  risers,  and  if  Senora  de  la  Vega  did  not  join  us 
before  daylight  we  might  be  seen  and  the  opportunity  lost.  The 
sun  rose  ; still  she  did  not  come,  and  I had  just  made  up  my  mind 
to  put  off  our  departure  until  the  next  morning,  and  try  to  communi- 
cate with  Senora  de  la  Vega  in  the  meantime,  when  Gahra  pointed 
to  a pathway  in  the  wood,  where  his  sharp  eyes  had  detected  the 
fluttering  of  a robe. 

At  last  she  was  coming.  But  too  late.  To  start  at  that  time 
would  be  madness,  and  I was  about  to  tell  her  so,  send  her  back,  and 
ask  her  to  meet  us  on  the  next  morning,  when  she  ran  forward  with 
terrified  face  and  uplifted  hands. 

“ Save  me  ! Save  me!”  she  cried,  “ I could  not  get  away 
sooner.  I have  been  watched.  They  are  following  me,  even  now.” 


IN  THE  TOILS. 


15; 

This  was  a frightful  misfortune,  and  I eared  that  the  senora 
had  acted  very  imprudently.  But  it  was  no  time  either  for  re- 
proaches or  regrets,  and  the  words  were  scarcely  out  of  her  mouth 
when  I lifted  her  into  the  saddle ; as  I did  so,  I caught  sight-  of  two 
horsemen  and  several  foot-people,  coming  down  the  pathway. 

“ Go  ! ■’  I said  to  Gahra,  “ I shall  stay  here.” 

“ But,  senor — ” 

u Go,  I say  ; as  you  love  me,  go  at  once.  This  lady  is  in  your 
charge.  Take  good  care  of  her.  I can  keep  these  fellows  at  bay 
until  you  are  out  of  sight  and,  if  possible,  I will  follow.  At  once, 
please,  at  once ! ” 

They  went,  Gahra’s  face  expressing  the  keenest  anguish,  the 
senora  half  dead  with  fear.  As  they  rode  away  I turned  into  the 
pathway  and  prepared  for  the  encounter.  The  foot-people  might 
do  as  they  liked,  they  could  not  overtake  the  fugitives,  but  I was 
resolved  that  the  horsemen  should  only  pass  over  my  body. 

The  foremost  of  them  was  Chimu  himself.  When  he  saw  that 
I had  no  intention  of  turning  aside,  he  and  his  companion  (who 
rode  behind  him)  reined  in  their  horses.  The  cacique  was  quiver- 
ing with  rage. 

“ My  wife  has  gone  off  with  your  negro,”  he  said,  hoarsely. 

I made  no  answer. 

“ I saw  you  help  her  to  mount.  You  have  met  her  before 
Mamcuna  shall  know  of  this,  and  my  wife  shall  die.” 

Still  I made  no  answer. 

“ Let  me  pass  ! ” 

I drew  my  machete. 

Chimu  drew  his  and  came  at  me,  but  he  was  so  poor  a swords- 
man, that  I merely  played  with  him,  my  object  being  to  gain  time, 
and  only  when  the  other  fellow  tried  to  push  past  me  and  get  to  my 
left-rear,  did  I cut  the  cacique  down.  On  this  his  companion  bolted 
the  way  he  had  come.  I galloped  after  him,  more  with  the  inten- 
tion of  frightening  than  hurting  him,  and  was  just  on  the  point  of 
turning  back  and  following  the  fugitives,  when  something  dropped 
over  my  head,  my  arms  were  pinioned  to  my  side,  and  I was  dragged 
from  my  saddle. 

The  foot-people  had  lassoed  me. 


MR.  FORTESCUE. 


158 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  MAN-KILLER. 

I WAS  as  helpless  as  a man  in  a strait  waistcoat.  When  I 
tried  to  rise,  my  captors  tautened  the  rope  and  dragged  me  along 
the  ground.  Resistance  being  futile,  I resigned  myself  to  my  fate. 

n seeing  what  had  happened,  the  flying  brave  (a  kinsman  of 
Chimu  s)  returned,  and  he  and  the  others  held  a palaver.  As 
Mamcuna’s  affianced  husband,  I was  a person  of  importance,  and 
they  were  evidently  at  a loss  how  to  dispose  of  me.  If  they  treated 
me  roughly,  they  might  incur  her  displeasure.  The  discussion  was 
long  and  rather  stormy.  In  the  result,  I was  asked  whether  I 
would  go  with  them  quietly  to  the  queen’s  house  or  be  taken  thither, 
nolens  volens.  On  answering  that  I would  go  quietly,  I was  un- 
bound  and  allowed  to  mount  my  horse. 

I do  not  think  I am  a coward,  and  in  helping  Sefiora  de  la  Vega 
to  escape  and  sending  her  off  with  Gahra.  I knew  that  I had  done 
the  right  thing.  Yet  I looked  forward  to  the  approaching  inter- 
view with  some  misgiving.  Barbarian  though  Mamcuna  was,  I 
could  not  help  entertaining  a certain  respect  for  her.  She  had 
treated  me  handsomely ; in  offering  to  make  me  her  husband  she 
had  paid  me  the  greatest  compliment  in  her  power;  and  how  little 
soever  you  may  reciprocate  the  sentiment,  it  is  impossible  to  think 
altogether  unkindly  of  the  woman  who  has  given  you  her  love 
And  my  conscience  was  not  free  from  reproach ; I had  let  her  think 
that  I loved  her— as  I now  perceived,  a great  mistake.  Courageous 
herself,  she  could  appreciate  courage  in  others,  and  had  I boldly  and 
unequivocally  refused  her  offer  and  given  my  reasons,  I did  not  be- 
lieve she  would  have  dealt  hardly  with  me. 

As  it  was,  Mamcuna  might  well  say  that,  having  deliberately 
deceived  her,  I deserved  the  utmost  punishment  which  it  was  in  her 
power  to  inflict.  At  the  same  time,  I was  not  without  hope  that 
when  she  heard  my  defense  she  would  spare  my  life. 

. the  tlme  we  reached  the  queen’s  house  my  escort  had  swollen 
into  a crowd,  and  one  of  the  caciques  went  in  to  inform  Mamcuna 
wnat  haa  befallen  and  ask  for  her  instructions. 

In  a few  minutes  he  brought  word  that  the  queen  would  see  me 
and  the  people  who  had  taken  part  in  my  capture  forthwith.  We 
found  her  sitting  in  her  chinchura,  in  the  room  where  she  and  I 


THE  MAti-KIlLER. 


first  met.  Rather  to  my  surprise  she  was  calm  and  collected  ; yet 
there  was  a convulsive  twitching  of  her  lips  and  an  angry  glitter  in 
her  eyes  that  boded  ill  for  my  hopes  of  pardon. 

“ Is  it  true,  this  they  tell  me,  senor— that  you  have  been  helping 
Chimu 's  white  wife  to  escape,  and  killed  Chimu  ? ” she  asked. 

“ It  is  true.” 

“ So  you  prefer  this  wretched  pale-face  woman  to  me  ? ” 

“No,  Mamcuna.” 

“ whY>  ther>,  did  you  help  her  to  escape  and  kill  her  husband  ? 
Don’t  trifle  with  me.” 

“ Because  I pitied  her.” 

“Why?” 

“Chimu  treated  her  ill,  and  she  was  very  wretched.  She 
wanted  to  go  back  to  her  own  country,  and  she  has  little  children 
at  home.” 

“What  was  her  wretchedness  to  you?  Did  you  not  know 
that  you  were  incurring  my  displeasure  and  risking  your  own  life  ? ” 

“ I did.  But  a Christian  cabellero  holds  it  his  duty  to  protect 
the  weak  and  deliver  the  oppressed,  even  at  the  risk  of  his  own 
life.” 

Mamcuna  looked  puzzled.  The  sentiment  was  too  fine  for  her 
comprehension. 

“You  talk  foolishness,  sefior.  No  man  would  run  into  danger 
for  a woman  whom  he  did  not  desire  to  make  his  own.” 

“ I had  no  desire  to  make  Senora  de  la  Vega  my  wife.  I would 
have  done  the  same  for  any  other  woman.” 

“For  any  other  woman!  Would  you  risk  your  life  for  me, 
senor  ? ” 

“ Surely,  Mamcuna,  if  you  were  in  sorrow  or  distress  and  I could 
do  you  any  good  thereby.” 

“It  is  well,  senor ; your  voice  has  the  ring  of  truth,”  said  the 
queen,  softly  and  with  a gratified  smile,  “ and  inasmuch  as  you  went 
not  away  with  Chimu’s  pale-faced  wife,  but  let  her  depart  with  the 
negro — ” 

“ The  senor  would  have  gone  also  had  we  not  hindered  him,” 
interposed  Chimu  s kinsman.  “ We  saw  him  lift  the  woman  into 
the  saddle,  and  he  was  turning  to  follow  her  when  Lurin  caught 
him  with  the  lasso.” 

“ Is  this  true ; would  you  have  gone  with  the  woman  ? ” asked 
the  queen,  sternly,  her  smile  changing  into  an  ominous  frown. 


loo 


MR.  Porte  scUE. 


“ It  is  true  ; but  let  me  explain—” 

“ Enough,  I will  not  hear  another  word.  So  you  would  have  left 
me,  a daughter  of  the  Incas,  who  have  honored  you  above  all  other 
men,  and  gone  away  with  a woman  you  say  you  do  not  love  ! Your 
heart  is  full  of  deceit,  your  mouth  runs  over  with  lies.  You  shall 
die ; so  shall  the  white  woman  and  the  black  slave.  Where  are 
they  ? Bring  them  hither.” 

The  caciques  and  braves  who  were  present  stared  at  each  other 
in  consternation.  In  their  exultation  and  excitement  over  my  capt- 
ure the  fugitives  had  been  forgotten. 

“Mules!  Idiots!  Old  women!  Follow  them  and  bring  them 
back.  They  shall  be  burned  in  the  same  fire.  As  for  you,  sefior,  be- 
cause you  cured  me  of  my  sickness  and  were  to  have  been  my  hus- 
band I will  let  you  choose  the  method  of  your  death.  You  may 
either  be  roasted  before  a slow  fire,  hacked  to  pieces  with  machetes , 
or  fastened  on  the  back  of  the  man-killer  and  sent  to  perish  in  the 
desert.  Choose.” 

“Just  one  word  of  explanation,  Mamcuna.  I would  fain — ” 

“ Silence ! or  I will  have  your  tongue  torn  out  by  the  roots. 
Choose ! ” 

“ I choose  the  man-killer.” 

“You  think  it  will  be  an  easier  death  than  being  hacked  to 
pieces.  You  are  wrong.  The  vultures  will  peck  out  your  eyes,  and 
you  will  die  of  hunger  and  thirst.  But  as  you  have  said  so  let  it  be. 
Tie  him  to  the  back  of  the  man-killer,  men,  and  chase  it  into  the 
desert.  If  you  let  him  escape  you  die  in  his  place.  But  treat  him 
with  respect ; he  was  nearly  my  husband.” 

And  then  Mamcuna,  sinking  back  into  her  chinchura , covered 
her  face  with  her  hands ; but  she  showed  no  sign  of  relenting,  and 
I was  bound  with  ropes  and  hurried  from  the  room. 

The  man-killer  was  a nandu  * belonging  to  the’  queen,  and  had 
gained  his  name  by  killing  one  man  and  maiming  several  others 
who  unwisely  approached  him  when  he  was  in  an  evil  temper.  Save 
for  an  occasional  outburst  of  homicidal  mania  and  his  abnormal  size 
and  strength,  the  man-killer  did  not  materially  differ  from  the  other 
nandus  of  Mamcuna’s  flock.  His  keeper  controlled  the  bird  without 
difficulty,  and  I had  several  times  seen  him  mount  and  ride  it  round 
an  inclosure. 


* The  American  ostrich. 


The  man-killer. 


i6r 


The  desert,  as  1 have  already  mentioned,  lies  between  the  Cor- 
dillera and  the  Pacific  Ocean,  stretching  almost  the  entire  length  of 
the  Peruvian  coast,  with  here  and  there  an  oasis  watered  by  one  or 
other  of  the  few  streams  which  do  not  lose  themselves  in  the  sand 
before  they  reach  the  sea.  It  is  a rainless,  hideous  region  of  naked 
rocks  and  whirling  sands,  destitute  of  fresh  water  and  animal  life, 
a region  into  which,  except  for  a short  distance,  the  boldest  traveler 
cares  not  to  venture. 

After  leaving  the  queen's  house  I was  placed  in  charge  of  a party 
of  braves  commanded  by  a cacique,  and  we  set  out  for  the  place 
where  my  expiation  was  to  begin.  The  nandu,  led  by  his  keeper 
and  another  man,  of  course,  went  with  us.  My  conductors,  albeit 
they  made  no  secret  of  their  joy  over  my  downfall,  did  their  mis- 
tress’s bidding,  and  treated  me  with  respect.  They  loosed  my 
bonds,  taking  care,  however,  so  to  guard  me  as  to  render  escape  im- 
possible, and,  when  we  halted,  gave  me  to  eat  and  drink.  But  their 
talk  was  not  encouraging.  In  their  opinion  nothing  could  save  me 
from  a horrible  death,  probably  of  thirst.  The  best  that  I could 
hope  for  was  being  smothered  in  a sandstorm.  The  man-killer 
would  probably  go  on  till  he  dropped  from  exhaustion,  and  then, 
whether  I was  alive  or  dead,  birds  of  prey  would  pick  out  my  eyes 
and  tear  the  flesh  from  my  bones. 

About  midday  we  reached  the  mountain- range  which  divides 
Pachatupec  from  the  desert.  Anything  more  lonesome  and 
depressing  it  were  impossible  to  conceive.  Not  a tree,  not  a 
shrub,  not  a blade  of  grass  nor  any  green  thing;  neither  running 
stream  nor  gleam  of  water  could  be  seen.  It  was  a region  in 
which  the  blessed  rain  of  heaven  had  not  fallen  for  untold  ages, 
a region  of  desolation  and  death,  of  naked  peaks,  rugged  preci- 
pices, and  rocky  ravines.  The  heat  from  the  overhead  sun,  inten- 
sified by  the  reverberations  from  the  great  masses  of  rock  around 
us,  and  unrelieved  by  the  slightest  breath  of  air,  was  well-nigh  suf- 
focating. 

Into  this  plutonic  realm  we  plunged,  and,  after  a scorching  ride, 
reached  the  head  of  a pass  which  led  straight  down  to  the  desert. 
Here  the  cacique  in  command  of  the  detachment  told  me,  rather  to 
my  surprise,  that  we  were  to  part  company.  They  were  already  a 
long  way  from  home  and  saw  no  reason  why  they  should  go  farther. 
The  desert,  albeit  four  or  five  leagues  distant,  was  quite  visible,  and, 
once  started  down  the  pass,  the  nandu  would  be  bound  to  go  thither. 

Ii 


1 62 


MR.  FORTE SCUE. 


He  could  not  climb  the  rocks  to  the  right  or  the  left,  and  the  braves 
would  take  care  that  he  did  not  return. 

As  objection,  even  though  I had  felt  disposed  to  make  it,  would 
have  been  useless,  I bowed  acquiescence.  The  thought  of  resisting 
had  more  than  once  crossed  my  mind,  and,  by  dint  of  struggling 
and  fighting,  I might  have  made  the  nandu  so  restive  that  I could 
not  have  been  fastened  on  his  back.  But  in  that  case  my  second 
condition  would  have  been  worse  than  my  first;  I should  have  been 
taken  back  to  Pachatupec  and  either  burned  alive  or  hacked  to 
pieces,  and,  black  as  seemed  the  outlook,  I clung  to  the  hope  that 
the  man-killer  would  somehow  be  the  means  of  saving  my  life. 

The  binding  was  effected  with  considerable  difficulty.  It  re- 
quired the  united  strength  of  nearly  all  the  braves  to  hold  the  nandu 
while  the  cacique  and  the  keepers  secured  me  on  his  back.  As  he 
was  let  go  he  kicked  out  savagely,  ripping  open  with  his  terrible 
claws  one  of  the  men  who  had  been  holding  him.  The  next  mo- 
ment he  was  striding  down  the  steep  and  stony  pass  at  a speed 
which,  in  a few  minutes,  left  the  pursuing  and  shouting  Pachatu- 
pecs  far  behind.  The  ground  was  so  rough  and  the  descent  so 
rapid  that  I expected  every  moment  we  should  come  to  grief.  But 
on  we  went  like  the  wind.  Never  in  my  life,  except  in  an  express- 
train,  was  I carried  so  fast.  The  great  bird  was  either  wild  with 
rage  or  under  the  impression  that  he  was  being  hunted.  The  speed 
took  my  breath  away ; the  motion  made  me  sick.  He  must  have 
done  the  fifteen  miles  between  the  head  of  the  pass  and  the  begin- 
ning of  the  desert  in  little  more  than  as  many  minutes.  Then,  the 
ground  being  covered  with  sand  and  comparatively  level,  the  nandu 
slackened  his  speed  somewhat,  though  he  still  went  at  a great  pace. 

The  desert  was  a vast  expanse  of  white  sand,  the  glare  of  which, 
in  the  bright  sunshine,  almost  blinded  me,  interspersed  with  stretches 
of  rock,  swept  bare  by  the  wind,  and  loose  stones. 

Instead  of  turning  to  the  right  or  left,  that  is  to  say,  to  the  north 
or  south,  as  I hoped  and  expected  he  would,  the  man-killer  ran 
straight  on  toward  the  sea.  As  for  the  distance  of  the  coast  from 
that  part  of  the  Cordillera  I had  no  definite  idea — perhaps  thirty 
miles,  perhaps  fifty,  perhaps  more.  But  were  it  a hundred  we  should 
not  be  long  in  going  thither  at  the  speed  we  were  making ; and 
vague  hopes,  suggesting  the  possibility  of  signaling  a passing  ship 
or  getting  away  by  sea,  began  to  shape  themselves  in  my  mind. 
The  nandu  could  not  go  on  forever ; before  reaching  the  sea  he 


THE  MAN-KILLER. 


163 

must  either  alter  his  course  or  stop,  and  if  he  stopped  only  a few 
minutes  and  so  gave  me  a chance  of  steadying  myself  I thought 
that,  by  the  help  of  my  teeth,  I might  untie  one  of  the  cords  which 
the  movements  of  the  bird  and  my  own  efforts  had  already  slightly 
loosened,  and  once  my  arms  were  freed  the  rest  would  be  easy. 

An  hour  (as  nearly  as  I could  judge)  after  leaving  the  Cordillera 
I sighted  the  Pacific — a broad  expanse  of  blue  water  shining  in  the 
sun  and  stretching  to  the  horizon.  How  eagerly  I looked  for  a sail, 
a boat,  the  hut  of  some  solitary  fisherman,  or  any  other  sign  of 
human  presence ! But  I saw  nothing  save  water  and  sand  ; the 
ocean  was  as  lonesome  as  the  desert.  There  was  no  salvation 
thitherward. 

Though  my  hope  had  been  vague,  my  disappointment  was  bit- 
ter ; but  a few  minutes  later  all  thought  of  it  was  swallowed  up  in 
a new  fear.  The  sea  was  below  me,  and  as  the  ground  had  ceased 
to  fall  I knew  that  the  desert  must  end  on  that  side  in  a line  of  lofty 
cliffs.  I knew,  also,  that  nandus  are  among  the  most  stupid  of 
bipeds,  and  it  was  just' conceivable  that  the  man-killer,  not  perceiv- 
ing his  danger  until  too  late,  might  go  over  the  cliffs  into  the  sea. 

The  hoarse  roar  of  the  waves  as  they  surge  against  the  rocks, 
at  first  faint,  grows  every  moment  louder  and  deeper.  I see  dis- 
tinctly the  land’s  end,  and  mentally  calculate  from  the  angle  it  makes 
with  the  ocean,  the  height  of  the  cliffs. 

Still  the  man-killer  strides  on,  as  straight  as  an  arrow  and  as 
resolutely  as  if  a hundred  miles  of  desert,  instead  of  ten  thousand 
miles  of  water,  stretched  before  him.  Three  minutes  more  and— I 
set  my  teeth  hard  and  draw  a deep  breath.  At  any  rate,  it  will  be 
an  easier  end  than  burning,  or  dying  of  thirst— Another  moment 
and — - 

But  now  the  nandu,  seeing  that  he  will  soon  be  treading  the  air, 
makes  a desperate  effort  to  stop  short,  in  which  failing  he  wheels 
half  round,  barely  in  time  to  save  his  life  and  mine,  and  then  courses 
madly  along  the  brink  for  miles,  as  if  unable  to  tear  himself  away, 
keeping  me  in  a state  of  continual  fear,  for  a single  slip,  or  an  acci- 
dental swerve  to  the  right,  and  we  should  have  fallen  headlong  down 
the  rocks,  against  which  the  waves  are  beating. 

As  night  closes  in  he  gradually — to  my  inexpressible  relief — draws 
inland,  making  in  a direction  that  must  sooner  or  later  take  us  back 
to  the  Cordillera,  though  a long  way  south  of  the  pass  by  which  we 
had  descended  to  the  desert.  But  I have  hardly  sighted  the  outline 


164 


MR.  FORTE  SC  UE. 


of  the  mighty  barrier,  looming  portentously  in  the  darkness,  when 
he  alters  his  course  once  again,  wending  this  time  almost  due 
south.  And  so  he  continues  for  hours,  seldom  going  straight,  now 
inclining  toward  the  coast,  anon  facing  toward  the  Cordillera,  but 
always  on  the  southward  tack,  never  turning  to  the  north. 

It  was  a beautiful  night.  The  splendor  of  the  purple  sky  with 
its  myriads  of  lustrous  stars  was  in  striking  contrast  with  the  same- 
ness of  the  white  and  deathlike  desert.  A profound  melancholy 
took  hold  of  me.  I had  ceased  to  fear,  almost  to  think,  my  per- 
ceptions were  blinded  by  excitement  and  fatigue,  my  spirits  op- 
pressed by  an  unspeakable  sense  of  loneliness  and  helplessness,  and 
the  awful  silence,  intensified  rather  than  relieved  by  the  long  drawn 
moaning  of  the  unseen  ocean,  which,  however  far  I might  be  from 
it,  was  ever  in  my  ears. 

I looked  up  at  the  stars,  and  when  the  cross  began  to  bend  I 
knew  that  midnight  was  past,  and  that  in  a few  hours  would  dawn 
another  day.  What  would  it  bring  me — life  or  death  ? I hardly 
cared  which ; relief  from  the  torture  and  suspense  I was  enduring 
would  be  welcome,  come  how  it  might.  For  I suffered  cruelly  ; I 
had  a terrible  thirst.  The  cords  chafed  my  limbs  arid  cut  into  my 
flesh.  Every  movement  gave  an  exquisite  pain  ; I was  continually  on 
the  rack ; rest,  even  for  a moment,  was  impossible,  as,  though  the 
nandu  had  diminished  his  speed,  he  never  stopped.  And  then  a 
wind  came  up  from  the  sea,  bringing  with  it  clouds  of  dust,  which 
well-nigh  choked  and  half  blinded  me ; filled  my  ears  and  intensi- 
fied my  thirst.  After  a while  a strange  faintness  stole  over  me ; I 
felt  as  if  I were  dying,  my  eyes  closed,  my  head  sank  on  my  breast, 
and  I remembered  no  more. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

ANGELA. 

“ Reg  ardez  won  fibre , regardez ! II  va  mieux , le  fiauvre 
hommeT 

“ C*  est  ga,  ma  fille  cherie,  f ait es  le  boire T 
I open  my  eyes  with  an  effort,  for  the  dust  of  the  desert  has  al- 
most blinded  me. 


ANGELA.. 


165 

I am  in  a beautiful  garden,  leaning  against  the  body  of  the  dead 
ostrich,  a lovely  girl  is  holding  a cup  of  water  to  my  parched  lips, 
and  an  old  man  of  benevolent  aspect  stands  by  her  side. 

“ Merely  mademoiselle , votes  etes  bien  bonne  ,”  I murmur. 

“ Oh,  father,  he  speaks  French.” 

“ This  passes  comprehension.  Are  you  French,  monsieur  ? ” 

“ No,  English.” 

“English!  This  is  stranger  still.  But  whence  come  you,  and 
who  bound  you  on  the  nandu  ? ” 

I will  tell  you  a little  more  water,  I pray  you,  mademoi- 
selle.” 

" Let  him  drink  again,  Angela — and  dash  some  water  in  his  face ; 
he  is  faint.” 

Le ftauvre  homtne ! See  how  his  lips  are  swollen!  Do  you 
feel  better,  monsieur?”  she  asked,  compassionately,  again  putting 
the  cup  to  my  lips. 

Much.  A thousand  thanks.  I can  answer  your  question  now 
(to  the  old  man).  I was  bound  on  the  nandu  by  order  of  the  queen 
of  the  Pachatupec  Indians.” 

“ The  Pachatupec  Indians ! I have  heard  of  them.  But  they 
are  a long  way  off ; more  than  a hundred  leagues  of  desert  lies 
between  us  and  the  Pachatupec  country.  Are  you  quite  sure,  mon- 
sieur? ” 

“ Quite.  And  seeing  that  the  nandu  went  at  a great  speed, 
though  not  always  in  a direct  line,  and  we  must  have  been  going 
fifteen  or  sixteen  hours,  I am  not  surprised  that  we  have  traveled 
so  far.” 

“ Mon  dieu  / And  all  that  time  you  have  neither  eaten  nor 
drunk,  No  wonder  you  are  exhausted  ! Come  with  us,  and  we 
will  give  you  something  more  invigorating  than  water.  You  shall 
tell  us  your  story  afterward — if  you  will.” 

I tried  to  rise,  but  my  stiffened  and  almost  paralyzed  limbs  re- 
fused to  move. 

“ Let  us  help  you.  Take  hi«s  other  arm,  Angela — thus,  Now ! ” 
And  with  that  they  each  gave  me  a hand  and  raised  me  to  my 
feet. 

“ How  was  it?  Who  killed  the  nandu  ? ” I asked,  as  I hobbled 
on  between  them. 

“ We  saw  the  creature  coming  toward  us  with  what  looked  like 
a dead  man  on  his  back,  and  as  he  did  not  seem  disposed  to  stop  I 


MR.  FORTE SCUE , 


1 66 

told  Angela,  who  is  a famous  archer,  to  draw  her  bow  and  shoot 
him.  He  fell  dead  where  he  now  lies,  and  when  we  saw  that, 
though  unconscious,  you  still  lived,  we  unloosed  you.” 

“ And  saved  my  life.  Might  I ask  to  whom  I am  indebted  for 
this  great  service,  and  to  what  beautiful  country  the  nandu  has 
brought  me?” 

“Say  nothing  about  the  service,  my  dear  sin  Helping  each 
other  in  difficulty  and  distress  is  a duty  we  owe  to  Heaven  and  our 
common  humanity.  I count  your  coming  a great  blessing.  You 
are  the  first  visitor  we  have  had  for  many  years,  and  the  Abbe 
Balthazar  gives  you  a warm  welcome  to  San  Cristobal  de  Quipai. 
The  name  is  of  good  omen,  Quipai  being  an  Indian  word  which 
signifies  ‘ Rest  Here,’  and  I shall  be  glad  for  you  to  rest  here  so 
long  as  it  may  please  you.” 

“Nigel  Fortescue,  formerly  an  officer  in  the  British  Army,  at 
present  a fugitive  and  a wanderer,  tenders  you  his  warmest  thanks, 
and  gratefully  accepts  your  hospitality — And  now  that  we  know 
each  other,  Monsieur  l’Abbe,  might  I ask  the  favor  of  an  introduc- 
tion to  the  young  lady  to  whom  I owe  my  deliverance  from  the 
nandu  ? ” 

“ She  is  Angela,  monsieur.  My  people  call  her  Senorita  Angela. 
It  pleases  me  sometimes  to  speak  of  her  as  Angela  Dieu-donn£e, 
for  she  was  sent  to  us  by  God,  and  ever  since  she  came  among  us 
she  has  been  our  good  angel,” 

“ I am  sure  she  has.  Nobody  with  so  sweet  a face  could  be 
otherwise  than  good,”  I said,  with  an  admiring  glance  at  the  beau- 
tiful girl  which  dyed  the  damask  of  her  cheek  a yet  deeper  crim- 
son. 

It  was  no  mere  compliment.  In  all  my  wanderings  I have  not 
beheld  the  equal  of  Angela  Dieu-donnee.  Though  I can  see  her 
now,  though  I learned  to  paint  in  order  that,  however  inadequately, 
I might  make  her  likeness,  I am  unable  to  describe  her ; words  can 
give  no  idea  of  the  comeliness  of  her  face,  the  grace  of  her  move- 
ments, and  the  shapeliness  of  her  form.  I have  seen  women  with 
skins  as  fair,  hair  as  dark,  eyes  as  deeply  blue,  but  none  with  the 
same  brightness  of  look  and  sweetness  of  disposition,  none  with 
courage  as  high,  temper  as  serene. 

To  look  at  Angela  was  to  love  her,  though  as  yet  I knew  not 
that  I had  regained  my  liberty  only  to  lose  my  heart.  My  feelings 
at  the  moment  oscillated  between  admiration  of  her  and  a painful 


ANGELA , 


167 

sense  of  my  own  disreputable  appearance.  Bareneaded  and  shoe- 
less, covered  with  the  dust  of  the  desert,  clad  only  in  a tom  shirt 
and  ragged  trousers,  my  arms  and  legs  scored  with  livid  marks,  I 
must  have  seemed  a veritable  scarecrow.  Angela  looked  like  a 
queen,  or  would  have  done  were  queens  ever  so  charming,  or  so  be- 
comingly attired.  Her  low-crowned  hat  was  adorned  with  beauti- 
ful flowers ; a loose-fitting  alpacca  robe  of  light  blue  set  off  her 
form  to  the  best  advantage,  and  round  her  waist  was  a golden 
baldrick  which  supported  a sheaf  of  arrows.  At  her  breast  was  an 
orchid  which  in  Europe  would  have  been  almost  priceless,  her 
shapely  arms  were  bare  to  the  shoulder,  and  her  sandaled  feet  were 
innocent  of  hosen. 

I was  wondering  who  could  have  designed  this  costume,  in 
which  there  was  a savor  of  the  pictures  of  Watteau  and  the  court 
of  Versailles,  how  so  lovely  a creature  could  have  found  her  way  to 
a place  so  remote  as  San  Cristobal  de  Quipai,  when  the  abbe  re- 
sumed the  conversation. 

“ Angela  came  to  us  as  strangely  and  unexpectedly  as  you  have 
come,  Monsieur  Nigel  ” (he  found  my  Christian  name  the  easier  to 
pronounce),  “and,  like  you,  without  any  volition  on  her  part  or 
previous  knowledge  of  our  existence.  But  there  is  this  difference 
between  you : she  came  as  a little  child,  you  come  as  a grown  man. 
Sixteen  years  ago  we  had  several  severe  earthquakes.  They  did  us 
little  harm  down  here,  but  up  on  the  Cordillera  they  wrought  fearful 
havoc,  and  the  sea  rose  and  there  was  a great  storm,  and  several 
ships  were  dashed  to  pieces  against  our  iron-bound  coast,  which  no 
mariner  willingly  approaches.  The  morning  after  the  tempest  there 
was  found  on  the  edge  of  the  cliffs  a cot  in  which  lay  a rosy-cheeked 
babe.  How  it  came  to  pass  none  could  tell,  but  we  all  thought 
that  the  cot  must  have  been  fastened  to  a board,  which  became  de- 
tached from  the  cot  at  the  very  moment  when  the  sea  threw  it  on 
the  land.  The  babe  was  just  able  to  lisp  her  name — ‘Angela,’ 
which  corresponded  with  the  name  embroidered  on  her  clothing. 
This  is  all  we  know  about  her;  and  I greatly  fear  that  those  to 
whom  she  belonged  perished  in  the  storm.  Even  the  wreckage 
that  was  washed  ashore  furnished  no  clew ; it  was  part  of  two  dif- 
ferent vessels.  The  little  waif  was  brought  to  me  and  with  me  she 
has  ever  since  remained.” 

“ And  will  always  remain,  dear  father,”  said  Angela,  regarding 
the  old  priest  with  loving  reverence.  " All  that  I lost  in  the  storm 


1 68 


MR.  FOR  FESCUE. 


has  he  been  to  me — father,  mother,  instructor,  and  friend.  Ycu  see 
here,  monsieur,  the  best  and  wisest  man  in  all  the  world.” 

“You  have  had  so  wide  an  experience  of  the  world  and  of  men, 
mignonne /”  returned  the  abbe,  with  an  amused  smile.  “Sir! 
since  she  could  speak  she  has  seen  two  white  men.  You  are  the 
second.  Ah,  well,  if  I were  not  afraid  you  would  think  we  had 
constituted  ourselves  into  a mutual  admiration  society  I should  be 
tempted  to  say  something  even  more  complimentary  about  her.” 

Say  it,  Monsieur  1 Abbe,  say  it,  I pray  you,”  I exclaimed 
eagerly,  for  it  pleased  me  more  than  I can  teirto  hear  him  sound 
Angela’s  praises. 

“ Nay,  I would  rather  you  learned  to  appreciate  her  from  your 
own  observation.  Yet  I will  say  this  much.  She  is  the  brightness 
of  my  life,  the  solace  of  my  old  age,  and  so  good  that  even  praise 
does  not  spoil  her.  But  you  look  tired  ; shall  we  sit  down  on  this 
fallen  log  and  rest  a few  minutes  ? ” 

To  this  proposal  I gladly  assented,  for  I was  spent  with  fatigue 
and  faint  with  hunger.  Angela,  however,  after  glancing  at  me  com- 
passionately and  saying  she  would  be  back  in  a few  minutes,  went 
a little  farther  and  presently  returned  with  a bunch  of  grapes. 

“Eat  these,”  she  said,  “they  will  refresh  you.” 

It  was  a simple  act  of  kindness ; but  a simple  act  of  kindness, 
gracefully  performed,  is  often  an  index  of  character,  and  I felt  sure 
that  the  girl  had  a kind  heart  and  deserved  all  the  praises  bestowed 
on  her  by  the  abbe. 

I was  thanking  her,  perhaps  more  warmly  than  the  occasion  re- 
quired, when  she  stopped  the  flow  of  my  eloquence  by  reminding 
me  that  I had  not  yet  told  them  why  the  Indian  queen  caused  me 
to  be  fastened  on  the  back  of  the  nandu . 

On  this  hint  I spoke,  and  though  the  abbe  suggested  that  I was 
too  tired  for  much  talking,  I not  only  answered  the  question  but 
briefly  narrated  the  main  facts  of  my  story,  reserving  a fuller  ac- 
count for  a future  occasion. 

Both  listened  with  rapt  attention ; but  of  the  two  Angela  was 
the  more  eager  listener.  She  several  times  interrupted  me  with  re- 
quests for  information  as  to  matters  which  even  among  European 
children  are  of  common  knowledge,  for,  though  the  abbe  was  a man 
of  high  learning  and  she  an  apt  pupil,  her  experience  of  life  was 
limited  to  Quipai ; and  he  had  been  so  long  out  of  the  world  that 
be  had  almost  forgotten  it  As  for  news,  he  wns  worse  off  than 


ANGELA . 


169 

Fray  Ignacio.  He  had  heard  of  the  First  Consul  but  nothing  of 
the  Emperor  Napoleon,  and  when  I told  him  of  the  restoration  of 
the  Bourbons  he  shed  tears  of  joy. 

“ Thank  God  ! ” he  exclaimed,  fervently,  “ France  is  once  more 
ruled  by  a son  of  St.  Louis.  The  tricolor  is  replaced  by  the  fleur - 
de-lis.  You  are  our  second  good  angel,  Monsieur  Fortescue;  you 
bring  us  glad  tidings  of  great  joy— You  smile,  but  I am  per- 
suaded that  Providence  -has  led  you  hither  in  so  strange  a way  for 
some  good  purpose,  and,  as  I venture  to  hope,  in  answer  to  my 
prayers ; for  albeit  our  lives  here  are  so  calm  and  happy,  and  I have 
been  the  means  of  bringing  a great  work  to  a successful  issue,  it  is 
not  in  the  nature  of  things  that  men  should  be  free  from  care,  and 
my  mind  has  lately  been  troubled  with  forebodings — ” 

“ And  you  never  told  me,  father ! ” said  Angela,  reproachfully. 
“ What  are  they,  these  forebodings  ? ” 

“Why  should  you  be  worried  with  an  old  man’s  difficulties? 
One  has  reference  to  my  people,  the  other— but  never  mind  the 
other.  It  may  be  that  already  a way  has  been  opened.  — If 
you  feel  sufficiently  rested,  Monsieur  Nigel,  I think  we  had  better 
proceed.  A short  walk  will  bring  us  to  San  Cristobal,  and  it  would 
be  well  for  us  to  get  thither  before  the  heat  of  the  day.” 

I protested  that  the  rest  and  the  bunch  of  grapes  had  so 
much  refreshed  me  that  I felt  equal  to  a long  walk,  and  we  moved 
on. 

“ What  a splendid  garden  ! ” I exclaimed  for  the  third  or  fourth 
time  as  we  entered  an  alley  festooned  with  trailing  flowers  and 
grape-vines  from  which  the  fruit  hung  in  thick  clusters. 

“ All  Quipai  is  a garden,”  said  the  abbe,  proudly.  “ We  have 
fruit  and  flowers  and  cereals  all  the  year  round,  thanks  to  the  great 
azequia  (aqueduct)  which  the  Incas  built  and  I restored.  And 
such  fruit ! Let  him  taste  a ckirtmoya , ma  fille  cherie .” 

From  a tree  about  fifteen  feet  high  Angela  plucked  a round 
green  fruit,  not  unlike  an  apple,  but  covered  with  small  knobs  and 
scales.  Then  she  showed  me  how  to  remove  the  skin,  which  cov- 
ered a snow-white  juicy  pulp  of  exquisite  fragrance  and  a flavor 
that  I hardly  exaggerated  in  calling  divine.  It  was  a fruit  fit  for 
the  gods,  and  so  I said. 

“We  owe  it  all  to  the  great  azequia ,”  observed  the  abbe. 

“ See,  it  feeds  these  rills  and  fills  those  fountains,  waters  our  fields, 
and  makes  the  desert  bloom  like  the  rose  and  the  dry  places  rejoice. 


MR.  FORTE SCUE. 


1 70 

And  we  have  not  only  fruit  and  flowers,  but  corn,  coffee,  cocoa, 
yuccas,  potatoes,  and  almost  every  sort  of  vegetable.” 

“ Quipai  is  a land  of  plenty  and  a garden  of  delight.” 

“ A most  apt  description,  and  so  long  as  the  great  azequia  is 
kept  in  repair  and  the  system  of  irrigation  which  I have  established  is 
maintained  it  will  remain  a land  of  plenty  and  a garden  of  delight. 

“ And  if  any  harm  should  befall  the  azequia  ? ” 

“ In  that  case,  and  if  our  water-supply  were  to  fail,  Quipai,  as 
you  see  it  now,  would  cease  to  exist.  The  desert,  which  we  are 
a lways  fighting  and  have  so  far  conquered,  would  regain  the  mas- 
tery, and  the  mission  become  what  I found  it,  a little  oasis  at  the 
foot  of  the  Cordillera,  supporting  with  difficulty  a few  score  fami- 
lies of  naked  Indians.  One  of  these  days,  if  you  are  so  disposed, 
you  shall  follow  the  course  of  the  azequia  and  see  for  yourself  with 
what  a marvelous  reservoir,  fed  by  Andean  snows,  Nature  has  pro- 
vided us.  But  more  of  this  another  time.  Look ! Yonder  is  San 
Cristobal,  our  capital  as  I sometimes  call  it,  though  little  more  than 
a village.” 

The  abbe  said  truly.  It  was  little  more  than  a village ; but  as 
gay,  as  picturesque,  and  as  bright  as  a scene  in  an  opera— two  double 
rows  of  painted  houses  forming  a large  oval,  the  space  between 
them  laid  out  as  a garden,  with  straight  walks  and  fountains  and 
clipped  shrubs,  after  the  fashion  of  Versailles;  in  the  center  a 
church  and  two  other  buildings,  one  of  which,  as  the  abbe  told  me, 
was  a school,  the  other  his  own  dwelling. 

The  people  we  met  saluted  him  with  great  humility,  and  he  re- 
turned their  salutations  quite  en  grand  seigneur , even,  as  I thought, 
somewhat  haughtily.  One  woman  knelt  in  the  road,  kissed  his 
hand,  and  asked  for  his  blessing,  which  he  gave  like  the  superior 
being  she  obviously  considered  him.  It  was  the  same  in  the  village. 
Everybody  whom  we  met  or  passed  stood  still  and  uncovered. 
There  could  be  no  question  who  was  master  in  San  Cristobal. 
Abbe  Balthazar  was  both  priest  and  king,  and,  as  I afterward  came 
to  know,  there  was  every  reason  why  he  should  be. 

He  kept  a large  establishment,  for  the  country,  and  lived  in  con- 
siderable state.  On  entering  his  house,  which  was  surrounded  by  a 
veranda  and  embowered  in  trees,  the  abbe  asked  if  I would  like 
a bath,  and  on  my  answering  in  the  affirmative  ordered  one  of  the 
servants,  all  of  whom  spoke  Spanish,  to  take  me  to  the  bath-room 
and  find  me  a suit  of  clothes, 


ANGELA. 


m 

The  bath  made  me  feel  like  another  man,  and  the  fresh  gar- 
ments effected  as  great  a change  in  my  personal  appearance. 
There  was  not  much  difficulty  about  the  fit.  A cotton  under-shirt, 
a blue  jacket  with  silver  buttons,  a red  sash,  white  breeches,  loose 
at  the  knee,  and  a pair  of  sandals,  and  I was  fully  attired.  Stock- 
ings I had  to  dispense  with.  They  were  not  in  vogue  at  San  Cris- 
tobal. 

When  I was  ready,  the  servant,  who  had  acted  as  my  valet, 
conducted  me  to  the- dining-room,  where  I found  Angela  and  the 
abbe. 

Parbleu  / exclaimed  the  latter,  who  occasionally  indulged  in 
expressions  that  were  not  exactly  clerical.  “ Parbleu / I had  no 
idea  that  a bath  and  clean  raiment  could  make  so  great  an  improve- 
ment in  a man  s appearance.  That  costume  becomes  you  toad- 
miration,  Monsieur  Nigel.  Don’t  you  think  so,  Angela?  ” 

“ You  for£et>  fatheb  that  he  is  the  only  Caballero  I ever  saw. 
Are  all  caballeros  like  him  ? ” 


“ Very  few,  I should  say.  It  is  a long  time  since  I saw  any  ; but 
even  at  the  court  of  Louis  XV  I do  not  remember  seeing  many 
braver  looking  gentlemen  than  our  guest.” 

As  I bowed  in  acknowledgment  of  the  compliment  Angela  gave 
me  a quick  glance,  blushed  deeply,  and  then,  turning  to  the  abb£ 
proposed  that  we  should  take  our  places  at  the  table. 

I was  so  hungry  that  even  an  indifferent  meal  would  have 
seemed  a luxurious  banquet,  but  the  repast  set  before  us  might  have 
satisfied  an  epicure.  We  had  a delicious  soup,  something  like  mut- 
ton-cutlets, land-turtle  steaks,  and  capon,  all  perfectly  cooked  ; vege- 
tables and  fruit  in  profusion,  and  the  wine  was  as  good  as  any  I 
had  tasted  in  France  or  Spain.  After  dinner  coffee  was  served  and 
the  abbe  inquired  whether  I would  retire  to  my  room  and  have  a 
sleep,  or  smoke  a cigarette  with  him  and  Angela  on  the  veranda. 

In  ordinary  circumstances  I should  probably  have  preferred  to 
sleep;  but  I was  so  fascinated  with  Mademoiselle  Dieu-donnee,  so 
excited  by  all  that  I had  seen  and  heard,  so  curious  to  know  the 
history  of  this  French  priest,  who  talked  of  the  court  of  Louis  XV 
who  had  created  a country  and  a people,  and  contrived,  in  a region 
so  remote  from  civilization,  to  surround  himself  with  so  many  luxu- 
ries, that  I elected  without  hesitation  for  the  cigarettes  and  the 
veranda. 


1/2 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

ABBfi  BALTHAZAR. 

THOUGH  my  wounds  had  not  ceased  their  smarting  nor  my 
bones  their  aching  my  happiness  was  complete.  The  splendid 
prospect  before  me,  the  glittering  peaks  of  the  Cordillera,  the  gleam- 
ing waters  of  the  far  Pacific,  the  gardens  and  fountains  of  San  Cris- 
tobal, the  charm  of  Angela’s  presence,  and  the  abbe’s  conversation 
made  me  oblivious  to  the  past  and  careless  of  the  future.  The 
hardships  and  perils  I had  lately  undergone,  my  weary  wanderings 
in  the  wilderness,  the  dull  monotony  of  the  Happy  Valley,  the  pas- 
sage of  the  Andes,  my  terrible  ride  on  the  nandu , all  were  forgotten. 
The  contrast  between  my  by-gone  miseries  and  present  surroundings 
added  zest  to  my  enjoyment.  I felt  as  one  suddenly  transported 
from  Hades  to  Elysium,  and  it  required  an  effort  to  realize  that  it 
was  not  all  a dream,  destined  to  end  in  a rude  awaking. 

After  some  talk  about  Europe,  the  revolt  of  the  Spanish  colonies, 
and  my  recent  adventures,  the  abbe  gave  me  an  account  of  his  life 
and  adventures.  The  scion  of  a noble  French  family,  he  had  been 
first  a page  of  honor  at  Versailles,  then  an  officer  of  the  garde  du 
corps,  and  among  the  gayest  of  the  gay.  But  while  yet  a youth 
some  terrible  event  on  which  he  did  not  like  to  dwell— a disastrous 
love-affair,  a duel  in  which  he  killed  one  who  had  been  his  friend 
wrought  so  radical  a change  in  his  character  and  his  ideals  that  he 
resigned  his  commission,  left  the  court,  and  joined  the  Society  of 
Jesus,  under  the  name  of  Balthazar.  Being  a noble  he  became  an 
abb^  (though  he  had  never  an  abbey)  as  a matter  of  course,  and 
full  of  religious  ardor  and  thirsting  for  distinction  in  his  new  call- 
ing he  volunteered  to  go  out  as  a missionary  among  the  wild  tribes 
of  South  America. 

After  long  wanderings  and  many  hardships,  Balthazar  and  two 
fellow-priests  accidently  discovered  Quipai,  at  that  time  a mere  col- 
lection of  huts  on  the  banks  of  a small  stream  which  descended 
from  the  gorges  of  the  Cordillera  only  to  be  lost  in  the  sands  of  the 
desert.  But  all  round  were  remains  which  showed  that  Quipai 
had  once  been  a place  of  importance  and  the  seat  of  a large  popu- 
lation-ruined buildings  of  colossal  dimensions,  heaps  of  quarried 
stones,  a cemetery  rich  in  relics  of  silver  and  gold ; and  a great 
asequia,  in  many  places  still  intact,  had  bromrht  down  water  from 


ABBE  BALTHAZAR. 


the  heart  of  the  mountains  for  the  irrigation  of  the  rainless  region 
of  the  coast. 

Balthazar  had  moreover  heard  of  the  marvelous  system  of  irriga- 
tion whereby  the  Incas  had  fertilized  nearly  the  whole  of  the  Peru- 
vian desert ; and  as  he  surveyed  the  ruins  he  conceived  the  great 
idea  of  restoring  the  aqueduct  and  repeopling  the  neighboring 
waste.  To  this  task  he  devoted  his  life.  His  first  proceeding  was 
to  convert  the  Indians  and  found  a mission,  which  he  called  San 
Cristobal  de  Quipai ; his  next  to  show  them  how  to  make  the  most 
of  the  water-privileges  they  already  possessed.  A reservoir  was 
built,  more  land  brought  under  cultivation,  and  the  oasis  rendered 
capable  of  supporting  a larger  population.  The  resulting  prosperity 
and  the  abbe’s  fame  as  a physician  (he  possessed  a fair  knowledge 
of  medicine)  drew  other  Indians  to  Quipai. 

After  a while  the  gigantic  undertaking  was  begun,  and  little  by 
little,  and  with  infinite  patience  and  pain  accomplished.  It  was  a 
work  of  many  years,  and  when  I traveled  the  whole  length  of  the 
azequia  I marveled  greatly  how  the  abbe,  with  the  means  at  his 
command,  could  have  achieved  an  enterprise  so  arduous  and  vast. 
The  aqueduct,  nearly  twenty  leagues  in  length,  extended  from  the 
foot  of  the  snow-lino  to  a valley  above  Quipai,  the  water  being 
taken  thence  in  stone-lined  canals  and  wooden  pipes  to  the  sea- 
shore. In  several  places  the  azequia  was  carried  on  lofty  arches 
over  deep  ravines ; and  there  were  two  great  reservoirs,  both  re- 
markable works.  The  upper  one  was  the  crater  of  an  extinct  vol- 
cano, of  unknown  depth,  which  contained  an  immense  quantity  of 
water.  It  took  so  long  to  fill  that  the  abbe,  as  he  laughingly  told 
me,  began  to  think  that  there  must  be  a hole  in  the  bottom.  But 
in  the  end  it  did  fill  to  the  very  brim,  and  always  remained  full. 
The  second  reservoir,  a dammed  up  valley,  was  just  below  the  first ; 
it  served  to  break  the  fall  from  the  higher  to  the  lower  level  and 
receive  the  overflow  from  the  crater. 

A bursting  of  either  of  the  reservoirs  was  quite  out  of  the  ques- 
tion ; at  any  rate,  the  abbe  so  assured  me,  and  certainly  the  crater 
looked  strong  enough  to  hold  all  the  water  in  the  Andes,  could  it 
have  been  got  therein,  while  the  lower  reservoir  was  so  shallow — 
the  out-flow  and  the  loss  by  evaporation  being  equal  to  the  in-take — 
that  even  if  the  banks  were  to  give  way  no  great  harm  could  be  done. 

I mention  these  particulars  because  they  have  an  important 
bearing  on  events  that  afterward  befell,  and  on  my  own  destiny. 


MR.  FOR  FESCUE. 


174 

Only  a born  engineer  and  organizer  of  untiring  energy  and  illim- 
itable patience  could  have  performed  so  herculean  a labor.  Baltha- 
zar was  all  this,  and  more.  He  knew  how  to  rule  men  despotically 
yet  secure  their  love.  The  Indians  did  his  bidding  without  hesita- 
tion and  wrought  for  him  without  pay.  In  the  absence  of  this 
quality  his  task  had  never  been  done.  On  the  other  hand,  he  owed 
something  to  fortune.  All  the  materials  were  ready  to  his  hand. 
He  built  with  the  stone  quarried  by  the  Incas.  His  work  suffered 
no  interruption  from  frost  or  snow  or  rain.  His  very  isolation  was 
an  advantage.  He  had  neither  enemies  to  fear,  friends  to  please, 
nor  government  officers  to  propitiate. 

On  the  landward  side  Quipai  was  accessible  only  by  difficult 
and  little  known  mountain-passes  which  nobody  without  some 
strong  motive  would  care  to  traverse,  and  passing  ships  might  be 
trusted  to  give  a wide  berth  to  an  iron-bound  coast  destitute  alike 
of  harbors  and  trade. 

So  it  came  to  pass  that,  albeit  the  mission  of  Quipai  was  in  the 
dominion  of  the  King  of  Spain,  none  of  his  agents  knew  of  its  ex- 
istence, his  writs  did  not  run  there,  and  Balthazar  treated  the  royal 
decree  for  the  expulsion  of  the  Jesuits  from  South  America  (of 
which  he  heard  two  or  three  years  after  its  promulgation)  with  the 
contempt  that  he  thought  it  deserved.  Nevertheless,  he  deemed  it 
the  part  of  prudence  to  maintain  his  isolation  more  rigidly  than  ever, 
and  make  his  communications  with  the  outer  world  few  and  far  be- 
tween, for  had  it  become  known  to  the  captain-general  of  Peru  that 
there  was  a member  of  the  proscribed  order  in  his  vice-royalty, 
even  at  so  out  of  the  way  a place  as  Quipai  he  would  have  been  sent 
about  his  business  without  ceremony.  The  possibility  of  this  con- 
tingency was  always  in  the  abbe’s  mind.  For  a time  it  caused  him 
serious  disquiet ; but  as  the  years  went  on  and  no  notice  was  taken 
of  him  his  mind  became  easier.  The  news  I brought  of  the  then 
recent  events  in  Spain  and  the  revolt  of  her  colonies  made  him 
easier.  The  viceroy  would  have  too  many  irons  in  the  fire  to 
trouble  himself  about  the  mission  of  Quipai  and  its  chief,  even  if 
they  should  come  to  his  knowledge,  which  was  to  the  last  degree 
improbable.  We  sat  talking  for  several  hours,  and  should  probably 
have  talked  longer  had  not  the  abbe  kindly  yet  peremptorily  in- 
sisted on  my  retiring  to  rest. 

Early  next  morning  we  started  on  an  excursion  to  the  valley 
lake,  each  of  us  mounted  on  a fine  mule  from  the  abbe  s stables 


abse  Balthazar , 


m 

t^h  bt  an  arrier°-  N°rth  as  wel1  as  south  of  San  Cris- 

tobal (as  the  village  was  generally  called)  the  country  had  the  same 

garden-like  aspect.  There  was  none  of  the  tangled  vegetation 
\\hich  m tropical  forests  impedes  the  travelers  progress  - except 

Thel'n  oeyhhaf  b6en  ?ant6d  ^ thC  r°adside  f°r  Protect'on  from 
the  sun,  or  bent  over  the  water-courses,  the  trees  grew  wide  apart 

ike  trees  m a park.  Men  and  women  were  busy  in  the  fields  and 

:h'  *»“  “ done  a more  wonderful  S 
than  restoring  the  great  azequia— converted  a tribe  of  -indolent 
aborigines  into  an  industrious  community  of  husbandmen  and 
craftsmen ; among  them  were  carpenters,  smiths,  masons,  weavers 
dyers,  and  cunning  workers  in  silver  and  gold.  The  secret  of  hTs 
power  was  the  personal  ascendency  of  a strong  man,  the  naturally 
docile  character  of  his  converts,  the  inflexible  justice  which  charac- 
h,S  ,dea[mgS  W‘th  them’  and  the  belief  assiduously  culti- 
t d’  ataS,he  Had  beCn  thdr  benefactor  this  world  he7 could 
control  their  aestimes  in  the  next.  Though  he  never  punished  he 

was  always  obeyed,  and  there  was  probably  not  a man  or  woman 
under  his  sway  who  would  have  hesitate/to  obey  him  even  to 

tmct  volcano,  the  slopes  of  which  in  the  days  of  the  Incas  were 
rraced  and  cultivated.  Angela  and  I half 'rode,  half  4Tked  to 

the  top , but  the  abbe,  on  the  plea  that  hp  hari  , 

look  after,  stayed  at  the  bottom  ^ S°me  buSiness  t0 

the  mountains  * ’ * ^ We  COuld  trace  far  into 

Behhicfus'rose^thT  stupendous  ^ ^ ^ 

” t+ssr  ™ 'vith  — -£  ic  s 


i?6 


MR.  FORTE  SCUE. 


The  oasis  as  I now  for  the  first  time  discovered,  was  a valley, 

greatly  facilitated.  , ...  r'iver  t ” said 

“ How  beautiful  Quipai  looks,  and  how  like  a ™ 

Angela.  “That  is  what  I always  think  when  I come  here 

llke<fWho  knows  that  long  ago  the  valley  was  not  the  bed  of  a 

^ It  must  be  very  long  ago,  then,  before  ‘here  was  any  Cordillera^ 
Rain-clouds  never  cross  the  Andes,  and  for  untold  ages  theie 

haV^ramrighrXurS  you  can  not  have  much  of  a 
river,  and  if  the  azequia  were  to  fail  there  would  be  very  little 

It  is  the  Palladium  of  the  mission  and  the  sou  ^ t ^ ^ ^ 
Si^tiSTInd  every  month  it  is  carefully  inspected  from  end 

Damaged  it  might  be,  but  hardly  destroy  , e P Mch  like 

clysm  which  would  destroy  everything  and  that  ua 

all  dwellers  in  countries  subject  to  life  is  so 

can  not  escape  from  the  conditions  of  om  exigence  ^ 

pleasant  here,  we  are  pestilence, 

our  fellow-creatures  m othei  parts  of  th  t0  make  our- 

Wife  and  want  that  it  wete  a,  “d  “j"'"  " " d,ngCT 

selves  unhappy  because  we  ate  expo  because  we  can  not 

against  which  we  can  not  guard,  as  to  repine  because 

UV- Yricourse  most  excellent  philosophy,  Mademoiselle  An- 

gel<‘ Without  knowing  it,  then,  as  Monsieur  Jourdan  talked  prose.” 
“ So ! You  have  read  Moliere  ? 

“ Over  and  over  again.  - . , , „ 

“ Then  you  must  have  a library  at  an  nS  ^ library  is 

“ A very  small  one,  as  you  may  suppose  but  a s J 

not  altogether  a disadvantage,  as  the  abbe  says.  The  tew 


/ BID  YOU  STAY. 


177 

y&d  have  the  oftener  you  read  them  ; and  it  is  better  to  read  a few 
books  well  than  many  superficially.” 

“ The  abbe  has  been  your  sole  teacher,  I suppose  ? ” 

“ Has  been ! He  is  still.  He  has  even  written  books  for  me, 
and  is  the  author  of  some  of  the  best  I possess — But  don’t 
you  think,  monsieur,  we  had  better  descend  to  the  valley  ? The 
abbe  will  have  finished  his  business  by  this  time,  and  though  he  is 
the  best  man  in  the  world  he  has  the  fault  of  kings ; he  does  not 
like  to  wait/’ 


CHAPTER  XXVIII, 

I BID  YOU  STAY. 

**  You  have  been  here  a month,  Monsieur  Nigel,  living  in  close 
intimacy  with  Angela  and  myself,”  said  the  abbe,  as  we  sat  on  the 
veranda  sipping  our  morning  coffee.  “ You  have  mixed  with  our 
people,  seen  our  country,  and  inspected  the  great  azequia  in  its 
entire  length.  Tell  me,  now,  frankly,  what  you  think  of  us  ? ” 

“ I never  passed  so  happy  a month  in  my  life,  and — ” 

“ I am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,  very  glad.  My  question,  how- 
ever, referred  not  to  your  feelings  but  your  opinion.  I will  repeat 
it : What  think  you  of  Quipai  and  its  institutions  ? ” 

“ 1 know  of  but  one  institution  in  Quipai,  and  I admire  it  more 
than  I can  tell” 

“ And  that  is  ? ” 

“ Yourself,  Monsieur  1’Abbe/9 

The  abbe  smiled  as  if  the  compliment  pleased  him,  but  the  next 
moment  his  face  took  the  “ pale  cast  of  thought,”  and  he  remained 
silent  for  several  minutes. 

“ 1 know  what  you  mean,”  he  said  at  length,  speaking  slowly 
and  rather  sadly.  “ You  mean  that  I am  Quipai,  and  that  without 
me  Quipai  would  be  nowhere.” 

“ Exactly,  Monsieur  l’Abbe,  Quipai  is  a miracle ; you  are  its  cre- 
ator, yet  I doubt  whether,  as  it  now  exists,  it  could  long  survive  you. 
But  that  is  a contingency  which  we  need  not  discuss ; you  have 
still  many  years  of  life  before  you.” 

“ I kke  a well-turned  compliment,  Monsieur  Nigel,  because  in 


I7» 


MR.  FORTE  SCUM. 


, to  be  acceptable  it  must  possess  both  a modicum  of  truth  and 
order  to  be  acceptaD  * for  it  must  needs  be  insincere, 

a soup<;on  of  wit.  But  y have  m years 

A n h- m ^ What  are  everin  years  to  "one  who  has  already 

of  life  before  him  What^reeven^  ^ ^ q[  ^ 

lived  nearly  a centu  y . Th_^  ^ ^ just  w 

and  I want  to  be  si  ) ^ -t  wiH__unless 

when  you  said  Qu,Pal  ^continue  the  work  which  I have  be- 

I can  find  a successor  faithful  but  they  require  a prescient 

gun.  My  people  are  good  and  faithful  bvU  7 4 fitted 

and  capable  chief,  and  to -t leader.  wm  you 
either  by  nature  or  education  to  taKe  uic  y 

r”  lITeaTtortT  On  the  other  iiand. ..  leave  Qolp.i 

were  to  lose  Angela.  welf  my  friend,  before  denying  my 

“eIt°U  “u  the  great  world  with  its 

request.  True,  >o  , But  you  would  renounce 

posi,i"' and ; csr 

them  for  a life  f t0  complete  the  work  I have  be- 

full  of  promise.  I J>  aid  h you  brst  Came, 

gun,  and  make  Qrupai  a n at  n As  I md  some  good  end.  It 
Providence  sent  you  he  e,  as^se^  £ ^ ^ marry 

rglVTf  you  search  the  world  through  you  could  find  no  sweeter 

^My  hesitation  vanished  like  the  morning  mist  before  the  rising 

1 SUn:.  if  Angela  will  be  my  wife,”  I said,  “I  will  be  your  sue- 

first  time  that  the  idea  of  as  ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ Qn  her>  and 

my  mind.  I loved  ner  But  I had  not  been  able  to  see  my 

beautiful,  gently  nurtured  girl  to  share  the 


/ bid  you  stay. 


m 

lot  of  3.  penniless  wanderer,  even  if  she  would  consent  to  leave  Qui- 
pai>  which  I greatly  doubted.  But  now  ! Compared  with  Angela, 
the  excitements  and  ambitions  of  which  the  abbe  had  spoken  did 
not  weigh  as  a feather  in  the  balance.  Without  her  life  would  be 
a dreary  penance  ; with  her  a much  worse  place  than  Quipai  would 
be  an  earthly  paradise. 

But  would  she  have  me  ? The  abbe  seemed  to  think  so.  Nev- 
ertheless, I felt  by  no  means  sure  about  it.  True,  she  appeared  to 
like  my  company.  But  that  might  be  because  I had  so  much  to  tell 
her  that  was  strange  and  new  ; and  though  I had  observed  her  nar- 
rowly, I had  detected  none  of  that  charming  self-consciousness,  that 
tender  confusion,  those  stolen  glances,  whereby  the  conventional 
lover  gauges  his  mistress  s feelings,  and  knows  before  he  speaks  that 
his  love  is  returned.  Angela  was  always  the  same-frank,  open, 
and  joyous,  and,  except  that  her  caresses  were  reserved  for  him, 
made  no  difference  between  the  abbe  and  me. 

“ A chirimoya  for  your  thoughts,  senor ! ” said  a well-known 
voice,  in  musical  Castilian.  -For  these  three  minute%I  have  been 
standing  close  by  you,  with  this  freshly  gathered  chirimoya,  and  you 
took  no  notice  of  me.” 

A thousand  pardons  and  a thousand  thanks,  senorita  ! ” I an- 
swered,  taking  the  proffered  fruit.  “ But  my  thoughts  were  worth 
all  the  chirimoyas  in  the  world,  delicious  as  they  are,  for  they  were 
of  you.” 

“We  were  thinking  of  each  other,  then.” 

“ What ! Were  you  thinking  of  me  ? ” 

“ Si,  senor.” 

“ And  what  were  you  thinking,  senorita  ? ” 

“That  God  was  very  good  in  sending  you  to  Quipai.” 

“ Why?  ” 

“For  several  reasons.” 

“Tell  me  them.” 

Because  you  have  done  the  abbe  good.  Aforetime  he  was  often 
sad.  You  remember  his  saying  that  he  had  cares.  I know  not 
what,  but  now  he  seems  himself  again.” 

“ Anything  else?  ” 

“ St,  setior.  You  have  also  increased  my  happiness.  Not  that  I 
was  unhappy  before,  for,  thanks  to  the  dear  abb6,  my  life  has  been 
free  from  sorrow ; but  during  the  last  month— since  you  came— I 
have  been  more  than  happy,  I have  been  joyous.” 


i8c 


MR.  FORTE SCUE. 


« You  don’t  want  me  to  go,  then  ? ” 

“ O serior ! Want  you  to  go  ! How  can  you— what  have  I 
done  or  said  ? ” exclaimed  the  girl,  impetuously  and  almost  indig- 
nantly. “ Surely,  sir,  you  are  not  tired  of  us  already  ? 

“ Heaven  forbid  ! If  you  want  me  to  stay  I shall  not  go.  It  is 
for  you  to  decide.  Angela  mia,  it  depends  on  you  whether  I go 
away  soon— how  or  whither  I know  not — or  stay  here  all  my  life 

long.”  . 

“ Depends  on  me  ! Then,  sir,  I bid  you  stay. 

“ Oh,  Angela,  you  must  say  more  than  that.  You  must  consent 
to  become  my  wife  ; then  do  with  me  what  you  will.” 

“ Your  wife ! You  ask  me  to  become  your  wife  ? ” 

“ Yes,  Angela.  I have  loved  you  since  the  day  we  first  met ; 
every  day  my  love  grows  stronger  and  deeper,  and  unless  you  love, 
me  in  return,  and  will  be  my  wife,  I can  not  stay ; I must  go-go  at 


°nCe*  , 

“ Quipai,  senarr  said  Angela,  archly,  at  the  same  time  giving 

me  her  hand.  „ 

“ Quipai ! I don’t  quite  understand— unless  you  mean— 

“ Quipai,”  she  repeated,  her  eyes  brightening  into  a merry  smile. 

“ Unless  you  mean — ” 

“ Quipai.”  „ 

“ Oh,  how  dull  lam!  I see  now.  Quipai— rest  here. 

" Si,  seiior." 

“ And  if  I rest  here,  you  will—” 

“ Do  as  you  wish,  senor,  and  with  all  my  heart ; for  as  you  love 
me,  so  I love  you.” 

“ Dearest  Angela ! ” I said,  kissing  her  hand,  “ you  make  me 
almost  too  happy.  Never  will  I leave  Quipai  without  you. 

“ And  never  will  I leave  it  without  you.  But  let  us  not  talk  of 
leaving  Quipai.  Where  can  we  be  happier  than  here  with  the  dear 

abbe  ? But  what  will  he  say  ? ” . , . . . 

“ He  will  give  us  his  blessing.  His  most  ardent  wish  is  that  I 

should  be  your  husband  and  his  successor.” 

••  How  good  he  is ! And  I,  wicked  girl  that  I am,  repay  his 
goodness  with  base  ingratitude.  Ah  me  ! How  shall  I tell  him  ? 

« You  repay  his  goodness  with  base  ingratitude?  You  speak  m 

riddles,  my  Angela.”  , , , , . . 

“ Since  the  waves  washed  me  to  his  feet,  a little  child,  the  abbe 

has  cherished  me  with  all  the  tenderness  of  a mother,  all  the  devo- 


/ BID  YOU  STA  F. 


181 


tion  of  a father.  He  has  been  everything  to  me ; and  now  you  are 
everything  to  me.  I love  you  better  than  I love  him.  Don’t  you 
think  I am  a wicked  girl?”  And  she  put  her  arm  within  mine, 
and  looking  at  me  with  love-beaming  eyes,  caressed  my  cheek  with 
her  hand. 

“ I will  grant  you  absolution,  and  award  you  no  worse  penance 
than  an  embrace,  mafille  chhrie”  said  the  abbe,  who  had  returned 
to  the  veranda  just  in  time  to  overhear  Angelas  confession.  “I  re- 
joice in  your  happiness,  mignonne . To-day  you  make  two  men 
happy— your  lover  and  myself.  You  have  lightened  my  mind  of 
the  cares  which  threatened  to  darken  my  closing  days.  The 
thought  of  leaving  you  without  a protector  and  Quipai  without  a 
chief  was  a sore  trouble.  Your  husband  will  be  both.  Like 
Moses,  I have  seen  the  Promised  Land,  and  I shall  be  content.” 

“Talk  not  of  dying,  dear  father,  or  you  will  make  me  sad,” 
said  Angela,  putting  her  arms  round  his  neck. 

“ There  are  worse  things  than  dying,  my  child.  But  you  are 
quite  right ; this  is  no  time  for  melancholy  forebodings.  Let  us  be 
happy  while  we  may ; and  since  I came  to  Quipai,  sixty  years  ago, 

I have  had  no  happier  day  than  this.” 

As  the  only  law  at  Quipai  was  the  abbe  s will,  and  we  had 
neither  settlements  to  make,  trousseaux  to  prepare,  nor  house  to 
get  ready  (the  abbe’s  house  being  big  enough  for  us  all),  there  was 
no  reason  why  our  wedding  should  be  delayed,  and  the  week  after 
Angela  and  I had  plighted  our  troth,  we  were  married  at  the 
church  of  San  Cristobal. 

The  abbe’s  wedding-present  to  Angela  was  a gold  cross  stud- 
* with  lar£e  uncut  diamonds.  Where  he  got  them  I had  no 
idea,  but  I heard  afterward— and  something  more. 

All  this  time  nothing,  save  vague  generalities,  had  passed  be- 
tween us  on  the  subject  of  religion— rather  to  my  surprise,  for 
priests  are  not  wont  to  ignore  so  completely  their  raison  d'etre , 
but  I subsequently  found  that  Balthazar,  albeit  a devout  Christian, 
was  no  bigot.  Either  his  early  training,  his  long  isolation  from 
ecclesiastical  influence,  or  his  communings  with  Nature  had  broad- 
ened his  horizon  and  spiritualized  his  beliefs.  Dogma  sat  lightly 
on  him,  and  he  construed  the  apostolic  exhortations  to  charity  in 
their  widest  sense.  But  these  views  were  reserved  for  Angela  and 
myself.  With  his  flock  he  was  the  Roman  ecclesiastic — a sover- 
eign pontiff— whom  they  must  obey  in  this  world  on  pain  of  being 


MR.  FORTE  SC  UR. 


1 82. 

damned  in  the  next.  For  he  held  that  the  only  ways  of  success- 
fully ruling  semi-civilized  races  are  by  physical  force,  personal  in- 
fluence, or  their  fear  of  the  unseen  and  the  unknown.  At  the  ou  - 
set  Balthazar,  having  no  physical  force  at  his  command,  had  to 
trust  altogether  to  personal  influence,  which,  being  now  re-enforced 
bv  the  highest  religious  sanctions,  made  his  power  literally  absolute. 
Albeit  Quipai  possessed  neither  soldiers,  constables,  nor  prison, 
his  authority  was  never  questioned  ; he  was  as  implicitly  obeyed  as 
a general  at  the  head  of  an  army  in  the  field. 

I have  spoken  of  the  abba’s  communings  with  Nature.  I 
ought  rather  to  have  said  his  searchings  into  her  mysteries ; for  he 
was  a shrewd  philosopher  and  keen  observer,  and  despite  the  is- 
advantages  under  which  he  labored,  the  scarcity  of  his  books,  and  the 
rudeness  of  his  instruments,  he  had  acquired  during  his  long  life  a 
vast  fund  of  curious  knowledge  which  he  placed  unreservedly  at  my 
disposal.  I became  his  pupil,  and  it  was  he  who  first  kindled  in 
my  breast  that  love  of  science  which  for  nearly  three-score  years  I 
have  lived  only  to  gratify. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE  ABBE’S  LEGACY. 

LIFE  was  easy  at  Quipai,  and  we  were  free  from  care.  On  the 
other  hand,  we  had  so  much  to  do  that  time  sped  swiftly,  and 
though  we  were  sometimes  tired  we  were  never  weary.  The  abb® 
made  me  the  civil  governor  of  the  mission,  and  gave  orders  that 
should  be  as  implicitly  obeyed  as  himself.  My  duties  in ^ this  capa- 
city though  not  arduous,  were  interesting,  including  as  they  did  all 
that  concerned  the  well-being  of  the  people,  the  maintenance  of  the 
azequia,  and  the  irrigation  of  the  oasis.  My  leisure  hours  were 
spent  in  study,  working  in  the  abb6’s  laboratory,  and  with  Angela 
who  nearly  always  accompanied  me  on  my  excursions  to  the  head 
of  the  aqueduct,  which,  as  I have  already  mentioned  was  at  the  foot 
of  the  snow-line,  two  days’  journey  from  the  valley  lake. 

It  was  during  one  of  these  excursions  that  we  planned  our  new 
home,  a mountain  nest  which  we  would  have  all  to  ourselves,  an 
whither  ^ the  height  of  summer  we  might  escape  from  the  heat  of 


THE  ABBE'S  LEGACY, 


183 


the  oasis,  for  albeit  the  climate  of  Quipai  was  fine  on  the  whole,  there 
were  times  when  the  temperature  rose  to  an  uncomfortable  height. 
The  spot  on  which  we  fixed  was  a hollow  in  the  hills,  some  two 
miles  beyond  the  crater  reservoir  and  about  eight  thousand  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  sea.  By  tapping  the  azequia  we  turned  the  barren 
valley  into  a garden  of  roses,  for  in  that  rainless  region  water  was 
a veritable  magician,  whatsoever  it  touched  it  vivified.  This  done 
we  sent  up  timber,  and  built  ourselves  a cottage,  which  we  called 
Alta  Vista,  for  the  air  was  superb  and  the  vieV  one  of  the  grandest 
in  the  world. 

Angela  would  fain  have  persuaded  the  abbe  to  join  us;  yet 
though  I made  a well-graded  road  and  the  journey  was  neither  long 
nor  fatiguing  he  came  but  seldom.  He  was  so  thoroughly  accli- 
matized that  he  preferred  the  warmth  of  San  Cristobal  to  the  fresh- 
ness of  Alta  Vista,  and  the  growing  burden  of  his  years  indisposed 
him  to  exertion,  and  made  movement  an  effort.  We  could  all  see, 
and  none  more  clearly  than  himself,  that  the  end  was  not  far  off. 
He  contemplated  it  with  the  fortitude  of  a philosopher  and  the  faith 
of  a Christian.  For  the  spiritual  wants  of  his  people  he  provided 
by  ordaining  (as  in  virtue  of  his  ecclesiastical  rank  he  had  the  right 
to  do),  three  young  men,  whom  he  had  carefully  educated  for  the 
purpose  ; the  reins  of  government  he  gave  over  entirely  to  me. 

“ I have  lived  a long  life  and  done  a good  work,  and,  though  I 
shall  be  sorry  to  leave  you,  I am  quite  content  to  go,”  he  said  one 
day  to  Angela  and  me.  “ It  is  not  in  my  power  to  bequeath  you  a 
fortune,  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word,  for  money  I have  none, 
yet  "so  long  as  the  mission  prospers  you  will  be  better  off  than  if  I 
could  give  you  millions.  But  everything  human  is  ephemeral  and 
I can  not  disguise  from  myself  the  possibility  of  some  great  dis- 
aster befalling  you.  Those  mountains  contain  both  gold  and  silver, 
and  an  invasion  of  treasure-seekers,  either  from  the  sea  or  the  Cor- 
dillera would  be  the  ruin  of  the  mission.  My  poor  people  would  be 
demoralized,  perhaps  destroyed,  and  you  would  be  compelled  to 
quit  Quipai  and  return  to  the  world.  For  that  contingency,  though 
I hope  it  will  never  come  to  pass,  you  must  be  prepared,  and  I will 
point  out  the  way.  The  mountains,  as  I have  said,  contain  silver 
and  gold ; and  contain  something  even  more  precious  than  silver 
and  gold — diamonds.  I made  the  discovery  nearly  half  a century 
ago,  and  I confess  that,  for  a time,  the  temptation  was  almost  more 
than  I could  withstand.  With  such  wealth  as  I saw  at  my  dis- 


1 84 


MR.  FORTESCUE. 


posal  I might  do  anything,  be  anything,  enrich  my  order,  win  dis- 
tinction tof  myself,  and  attain  to  high  rank,  perhaps  the  highest,  m 
the  church,  or  leave  it  and  become  a power  in  the  world  a masttr 
of  men  and  the  guest  of  princes.  Yes,  it  was  a sore  temptation, 
but  with  God’s  help,  I overcame  it  and  chose  the  better  par  , e 
path  of  duty,  and  I have  my  reward.  I brought  a few  diamonds 
away  with  me,  some  of  which  are  in  Angelas  cross;  but  I have 
never  tieen  to  he  place  since.  I told  you  not  this  sooner,  my  son, 
partly  because  there  seemed  no  need,  partly  because,  not  knowing 
you  Is  well  as  I know  you  now,  I thought  you  might  be  tempted  in 
like  manner  as  I was  and  we  pray  not  to  be  led  into  temptation. 
But  though  I tell  you  where  these  precious  stones  are  to  be  foun  , 

I am  sure  that  you  will  never  quit  Quipai. 

“I  have  no  great  desire  to  know  the  whereabout  of  this  - 
mond  mine,  father.  Tell  me  or  not  as  you  think  fi  n any 
case  I shall  be  true  to  my  trust  and  my  word.  1 promise  you 
that  I will  not  leave  Quipai  till  I am  forced,  and  I hope  1 never  may 

bC'  “ All  the  same,  my  son,  it  is  the  part  of  a wise  man  to  provide 
for  even  unlikely  contingencies.  Remember,  it  is  the  unexpected 
that  happens,  and  I would  not  have  you  and  our  dear  Angela  cast 
on  the  world  penniless.  For  her,  bred  as  she  has  been,  it  would  be 
a frightful  misfortune;  and  up  yonder  are  diamonds  which  would 
make  you  rich  beyond  the  dreams  of  avarice.  Promise  me  that  you 
will  go  thither,  and  bring  away  as  many  as  you  can  convenient  y 
carry  about  your  persons  in  the  event  of  your  being  compe  e 

quit  the  oasis  at  short  notice.” 

“ I promise.  Nevertheless,  I see  no  probability 

“ We  are  discussing  possibilities  not  probabilities,  my  son.  And 
during  the  last  few  days  I have  had  forebodings,  if  I were  supersti- 
tious I should  say  prophetic  visions,  else  had  I not  broac  e 
subject.  Regard  it,  if  you  like,  as  an  old  man  s whim-<md  keep  a 
look-out  on  the  sea.” 

“ Why  particularly  on  the  sea?  ” ...  Tf 

« it  fa  the  quarter  whence  danger  is  most  to  be  apprehended  I 
some  Spanish  war-ship  were  to  sight  the  oasis  and  send  a boat 
ashore,  either  out  of  idle  curiosity  or  for  other  reasons,  a report 
would  be  made  to  the  captain-general,  or  to  whomsoever  is  now  m 
authority  at  Lima,  and  there  would  come  a horde  of  ^vemmen 
functionaries,  who  would  take  possession  of  everything,  and  yo  1 


THE  ABBE’S  LEGACY. 


185 

would  have  to  go.  But  take  your  pen  and  note  down  the  particulars 
that  will  enable  you  to  find  the  diamond  mine.  ” 

Though  Angela  and  I listened  to  the  abbe’s  warnings  with  all 
respect,  they  made  little  impression  on  our  minds.  We  regarded 
them  as  the  vagaries  of  an  old  man,  whose  mind  was  affected  by 
the  feebleness  of  his  body,  and  a few  weeks  later  he  breathed  his 
last.  His  death  came  in  the  natural  order  of  things,  and,  as  he  had 
outlived  his  strength,  it  was  for  him  a happy  release ; yet,  as  we  had 
loved  him  much,  we  sorrowed  for  him  deeply,  and  I still  honor  his 
memory.  Take  him  all  in  all,  Abbe  Balthazar  was  the  best  man  I 
have  ever  known. 

Shortly  after  we  laid  him  in  the  ground  I made  a visit  to  the  dia- 
mond ground,  the  situation  of  which  the  abbe  had  so  fully  described 
that  I found  it  without  difficulty.  But  the  undertaking,  besides 
proving  much  more  arduous  than  I had  anticipated,  came  near  to 
costing  me  my  life.  I took  with  me  an  arriero  and  three  mules 
one  carrying  an  ample  supply  of  food,  and,  as  I thought,  of  water! 
for  the  abbe  had  told  me  that  a mountain-stream  ran  through  the 
valley  where  I was  to  look  for  the  diamonds.  As  ill  luck  would 
have  it,  however,  the  stream  was  dried  up.  Had  it  not  been  that  I 
d!d  not  like  to  return  empty-handed  I should  have  returned  at  once, 
for  our  store  of  water  was  exhausted  and  we  were  two  days’  journev 
from  Quipai.  J 3 

I spent  a whole  day  seeking  among  the  stones  and  pebbles,  and 
my  search  was  so  far  successful  that  I picked  up  two  score  dia- 
monds, some  of  considerable  size.  If  I could  have  stayed  longer  I 
might  have  made  a still  richer  harvest ; and  I had  an  idea  that  there 
were  more  under  than  above  ground.  But  I had  stayed  too  long  as 
it  was.  The  mules  were  already  suffering  for  want  of  water;  all 
three  perished  before  we  reached  Quipai,  and  the  arriero  and  myself 
got  home  only  just  alive. 

Nevertheless,  had  not  Angela  put  her  veto  on  the  project  I should 
have  made  another  visit  to  the  place,  provided  with  a sufficiency  of 
water  for  the  double  journey.  I,  moreover,  thought  that  with  time 
and  proper  tools  I could  find  water  on  the  spot.  However,  I went 
not  again,  and  I renounced  my  design  all  the  more  willingly  as  I 
new  that  the  diamonds  I had  already  found  were  a fortune  in  them- 
selves. . I added  them  to  my  collection  of  minerals  which  I kept  in 
my  cabinet  at  Alta  Vista.  My  Quipais  being  honest  and  knowing 
nothing  whatever  of  precious  stones  I had  no  fear  of  robbers, 


MR.  FORTE SCUE. 


1 86 

For  several  years  after  Balthazar’s  death  nothing  occurred  to  dis- 
turb the  even  tenor  of  our  way,  and  I had  almost  forgotten  his 
warnings,  and  that  we  were  potentially  “ rich  beyond  the  creams  o 
avarice,”  when  one  day  a runner  brought  word  that  two  men  had 
landed  on  the  coasts  and  were  on  the  way  to  San  Cnstoba  . 

This  was  startling  news,  and  I questioned  the  messenger  c y, 
but  all  he  could  tell  me  was  that  the  strangers  had  arrived  in  a small 
boat,  half-famished  and  terribly  thirsty,  and  had  asked  m broken 
Spanish,  to  be  taken  to  the  chief  of  the  country,  and  that  he  had 
been  sent  on  to  inform  me  of  their  coming. 

“ The  abbe  ! ” exclaimed  Angela,  “ you  remember  what  he  sai 

about  danger  from  the  sea.”  . 

“Yes;  but  there  is  nothing  to  fear  from  two  hungry  men  in  a 
smaU  boat — as  I judge  from  the  runner’s  account,  shipwrecked 

mannerSon  t _ there's  n0  telling,  ^they  may  be  followed  by 

others  and  unless  we  keep  them  here  . 

“If  necessary  we  must  keep  them  here;  as,  however,  they  are 
evidently  not  Spaniards  it  may  not  be  necessary.  But  as  to  that 
can  form  no  opinion  till  I have  seen  and  questioned  them. 

We  were  still  talking  about  them,  for  the  incident  was  bom  sug- 
gestive and  exciting,  when  the  strangers  were  brought  in  As  I 
expected  they  were  seamen,  in'  appearance  regular  old  .alts.  One 
la's  middle-sized,  broad-built,  brawny,  and  squat 

Hercules  with  big  red  whiskers,  earrings,  and  a pig-tail.  His  co 
panion  was  taller  and  less  sturdy,  his  black  locks  hung  in  nngkts 
on  either  side  of  a swarthy,  hairless  face,  and  the  arms  and  hands 
of  both,  as  also  their  breasts  were  extensively  tattooed. 

Their  surprise  on  beholding  Angela  and  me  was  almost  lu  - 

crous  They  might  have  been  expecting  to  see  a copper-colored 

cacioue  dressed  in  war-paint  and  adorned  with  scalps. 

“White  1 By  the  piper  that  played  before  Moses,  white  . mu  - 
tered  the  red-whiskered  man,  “ Who’d  ha’  thought  it!  A squaw 
in  petticoats,  too,  with  a gold  chain  round  her  neck  . Where 

hangmant  have  we  got  to  ? ” 

■< you  are  English?  ” I said,  quietly. 

. • I T’ . T7  r-,  r 


I’m  English,  name  of  Yawl,  Bill 


it  Web  1 11  be yes,  sir  . i m » 

Yawl,  sir, ’of  the  port  of  Liverpool,  at  your  service.  My  mate,  here, 

hC’^  my  own  tale,  if  you  please,  Bill  Yawl,”  interrupted  the 


THE  ABBE'S  LEGACY. 


187 

oiner  as  I thought  rather  peremptorily.  « My  name  is  Kidd,  and 
I m a native  of  Barbadoes  in  the  West  Indies,  by  calling,  a mariner, 
and  late  second  mate  of  the  brig  Sulky  Sail,  Jones,  master,  bound 
from  Liverpool  to  Lima,  with  a cargo  of  hardware  and  cotton 
goods.” 

“ And  what  has  become  of  the  Sulky  Sail  ? ” 

“ She  went  to  the  bottom,  sir,  three  days  ago.” 

“ But  there  has  been  no  bad  weather,  lately.” 

“ Not  lately.  But  we  made  very  bad  weather  rounding  the  Horn, 
and  the  ship  sprang  a leak,  and  though,  by  throwing  cargo  over- 
board, and  working  hard  at  the  pumps,  we  managed  to  keep  her 
afloat  nearly  a month  ; she  foundered  at  last.” 

And  are  you  the  only  survivors  ? ” 

No,  sir ; the  master  and  most  of  the  crew  got  away  in  the  long 
boat.  But  as  the  ship  went  down  the  dinghy  was  swamped.  Bill 
and  me  managed  to  right  her  and  get  aboard  again,  but  the  others 
as  was  with  us  got  drowned.” 

w And  the  long  boat  ? ” 

"We  lost  each  other  in  the  night,  and,  having  no  water,  and 
only  a tin  of  biscuits,  Bill  and  me  made  straight  for  the  coast,  and 
landed  in  the  little  cove  down  below  this  morning.  All  we  have  is 
what  we  stand  up  in.  And  we  shall  feel  much  obliged  if  you  will 
kindly  give  us  food  and  shelter  until  such  time  as  we  can  get 
away.”  6~ 

On  this  I assured  Mr.  Kidd  that  I was  sorry  for  their  misfort- 
une, and  would  gladly  find  them  food  and  lodging,  and  whatever 
else  they  might  require,  but  as  for  getting  away,  I did  not  see  how 
that  was  possible,  unless  by  sea,  and  in  their  own  dinghy. 

“ We  are  verT  fateful  for  your  kindness,  sir;  but  I don’t  think 
we  should  much  like  to  make  another  voyage  in  the  dinghy.” 

"She  ain’t  seaworthy,”  growled  Yawl,  "you’ve  to  bale  all  the 
time,  and  if  it  came  on  to  blow  she’d  turn  turtle  in  half  a minute.” 

" May  be  some  vessel  will  be  touching  here,  sir,”  suggested 
Kidd. 

“ Vessels  never  d°  touch  here,  except  to  be  dashed  in  pieces 
against  the  rocks.” 

“ WelI> 1 suppose  we  shall  have  to  wait  till  a chance  happens 
out.  This  seems  a nice  place,  and  we  are  in  no  hurry,  if  you 
aren’t.”  1 

go  the  two  castaways  became  my  guests ; and  if  they  waited  to 


iB8 


MR.  FORTE SCUE. 


be  taken  off  by  a passing  ship  they  were  likely  to  remain  my  guests 

^ For  afcw  dayslhey  rambled  about  the  place  with  their  hands  in 
their  pockets  and  cigars  (with  which  I supplied  them  liberally)  m 
their  mouths.  But  after  a while  time  began  to  hang  heavy  on  the.r 
hands,  and  one  day  they  came  to  me  with  a proposal. 

“We  are  tired  of  doing  nothing,  Mr.  Fortescue,  said  Kidd. 

« It  is  the  hardest  work  I ever  put  my  hand  to,  and  not  a grog- 
shop in  the  place,”  interposed  Yawl. 

“Hold  your  jaw,  Bill,  and  let  me  say  my  say  out.  We __ 
tired  of  doing  nothing,  and  if  you  like  we  will  build  you  a sloop. 

« a sloop  ' To  go  away  in,  I suppose  ? 

•4at  7s  » you  please,  sir.  Any  how,  a sloop,  say  of  Steen 
or  twenty  tons,  would  be  ,er,  useful.  You  might  .ate  a sod  with 

line  doing  at  your  house,  sir,  I shall  be  glad  to  o it  y 

The  project  pleased  me;  an  occasional  cruise  would  be  an 
agreeable  diversion,  and  I assented  to  Kidd’s  proposal  without  hesi- 
tation There  was  as  much  wreckage  lying  on  the  cliff  as  would 
build  a man-of-war,  and  a small  cove  at  the  foot  of  the  oasis  where 

the  sloop  could  lie  safely  at  anchor.  , V,Pln- 

So  the  work  was  taken  in  hand,  some  of  my  own  people  h p 
ing  and  after  several  months’ labor  the  Angela,  as  I proposed  to 
caff  her,  was  launched.  She  had  a comfortable  little  cabin  and  so 
soon  as  she  was  masted  and  rigged  would  be  ready  for  sea 

In  the  mean  time  I asked  Kidd  to  superintend  some  alterations 
I was  making  at  Alta  Vista,  and  among  other  things  constru 
larger  cabinefs  for  my  mineral  and  entomological  specimens.  He 
£ work  quite  to  my  satisfaction,  but  before  it  was  well  finished 
I made  a portentous  discovery— several  of  my  diamonds  we 
missing.  There  could  be  no  doubt  about  it,  for  I knew  t e nun' i er 
to  a nicety  and  had  counted  them  over  and  oyer  again.  Neither 
°o„H  2=  be  ,uy  doubt  .ha.  Kidd  was  .he  tee • ^ 

wife  mvself,  and  one  or  two  of  our  servants,  no  one  else  had  be 
T the  room’  and  our  own  people  would  not  have  taken  the  trouble 
to  pick°upa’ diamond  from  .be  ground,  much  lea,  steal  one  from 

my  impulse  was  .0  acouae  Kidd  of  .he  .heft  and  ha.e  him 


THE  QUeMCIUMg  OE  QUIP  At 


189 

searched.  And  then  I reflected  that  I was  almost  as  much  to  blame 
as  himself.  Assuming  that  he  knew  something  of  the  value  of 
precious  stones,  I had  exposed  him  to  temptation  by  leaving  so 
many  and  of  so  great  value  in  an  open  drawer.  -He  might  well 
suppose  that  I set  no  store  by  them,  and  that  half  a dozen  or  so 
would  never  be  missed.  So  I decided  to  keep  silence  for  the  pres- 
ent and  keep  a watch  on  Mr.  Kidd’s  movements.  It  might  be  that 
he  and  Yawl  were  thinking  to  steal  a march  on  me  and  sail  away 
secretly  with  the  sloop,  and  perhaps  something  else.  They  had 
both  struck  up  rather  close  friendships  with  native  women. 

But  as  I did  not  want  to  loose  any  more  of  my  diamonds,  and 
there  was  no  place  at  Alta  Vista  where  they  would  be  safe  so  long 
as  Kidd  was  on  the  premises,  I put  them  in  a bag  in  the  inside 
pocket  of  a quilted  vest  which  I always  wore  on  my  mountain  ex- 
cursions, my  intention  being  to  take  them  on  the  following  day 
down  to  San  Cristobal  and  bestow  them  in  a secure  hiding-place. 

I little  knew  that  I should  never  see  San  Cristobal  again. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE  QUENCHING  OF  QUIPAI. 

The  cottage  at  Alta  Vista  had  expanded  little  by  little  into  a 
long,  single  storied  flat-roofed  house,  shaded  by  palm-trees  and 
set  in  a fair  garden,  which  looked  all  the  brighter  from  its  contrast 
with  the  brown  and  herbless  hill-sides  that  uprose  around  it. 

In  the  after  part  of  the  day  on  which  I discovered  the  theft,  An- 
gela and  myself  were  sitting  under  the  veranda,  which  fronted  the 
house  and  commanded  a view  of  the  great  reservoir,  the  oasis  and 
the  ocean.  She  was  reading  aloud  a favorite  chapter  in  “ Don 
Quixote,”  one  of  the  few  books  we  possessed.  I was  smok- 
ing. 

Angela  read  well ; her  pronunciation  of  Spanish  was  faultless, 
and  I always  took  particular  pleasure  in  hearing  her  read  the  idio- 
matic Castilian  of  Cervantes.  Nevertheless,  my  mind  wandered ; 
and,  try  as  I might,  I could  not  help  thinking  more  of  the  theft  of 
the  diamonds  than  the  doughty  deeds  of  the  Don  and  the  shrewd 
sayings  of  Sancho  Panza.  Not  that  the  loss  gave  me  serious  con- 


I$0 


MR.  FOR  FESCUE. 


cern.  A few  stones  more  or  less  made  no  great  difference,  and  I 
should  probably  never  turn  to  account  those  I had.  But  the  inci- 
dent revived  suspicions  as  to  the  good  faith  of  the  two  castaways 
which  had  been.long  floating  vaguely  in  my  mind.  From  the  first 
I had  rather  doubted  the  account  they  gave  of  themselves  And 
Kidd  ' I had  never  much  liked  him  ; he  had  a hard  inscrutable  face, 
Ld  unless  I greatly  misjudged  him  was  capable  of  boWer^- 
prises  than  petty  larceny.  He  was  just  the  man  to  steal  secretly 
-way  and  return  with  a horde  of  unscrupulous  treasure-seekers, 
he  Lew  now  that  there  were  diamonds  in  the  neighborhood,  and 
he  must  have  heard  that  we  had  found  gold  and  silver  ornaments 

exclaimed  Angela,  dropping  her 
book  and  springing  to  her  feet,  an  example  which . I ^ mstanffy  fol- 
lowed, for  the  earth  was  moving  under  us  and  there  fel1  ™ ou 
ears,  for  the  first  time,  the  dread  sound  of  subterranean  thunder. 

BuUhe  alarm  was  only  momentary.  In  less  time  than  it  takes 
to  tell  the  trembling  ceased  and  the  thunder  died  away. 

‘ Only  a slight  shock,  after  all,”  I said,  “ and  I hope  we  sha 
have  no  more.  However,  it  is  just  as  well  to  be  prepared  I will 
Lve  the  mules  got  out  of  the  stable ; and  if  there  is  anything  in- 
sLe  ymu  particufady  want  you  had  better  fetch  it.  I will  join  you 

^ ^sTptssed  through  the  house  I saw  Kidd  coming  out  of  the 

I asked  him,  sharply, 

..  I went  for  a tool  I left  there  ’’(holding  up  a chisel).  “ Did  you 

^’.‘Yes^and  there  may  be  another.  Tell  Maximiliano  to  get  the 

^Ofte  has  been  after  the  diamonds,”  I thought,  “he  must  know 
that  I have  taken  them  away.  I had  better  make  sure  of  them 
a pv,  that  I stepped  into  my  room,  put  on  my  quilted  jacket, 
armed  mvself  with  a small  hatchet  and  a broad-bladed,  highly 

*S5Et  LdXX  mules  safely  lettered,  and  warned  the  ser,- 
antsLid  others  to  run  into  the  open  if  there  should  be  another  shoe  , 
I returned  to  Angela,  who  had  resumed  her  seat  m the  verai  . 


THE  quenching  of  quip a f 


igl 


Equipped  for  the  mountains  ! Where  away  now,  carv  mio  ? ” 
she  said,  regarding'  me  with  some  surprise. 

“ Nowhere.  At  any  rate,  I have  no  present  intention  of  running 
away.  I have  put  on  my  jacket  because  of  these  diamonds,  and 
brought  my  hatchet  and  hunting-knife  because,  if  the  house  col- 
lapses, I should  not  be  able  to  get  them  at  the  very  time  they  would 
be  the  most  required.” 

“ If  the  house  collapses  ! You  think,  then,  we  are  going  to  have 
a bad  earthquake  ? ” 

“ It  is  possible.  This  is  an  earthquake  country  ; there  has  been 
nothing  more  serious  than  a slight  trembling  since  long  before  the 
abbe  died ; and  I have  a feeling  that  something  more  serious  is 
about  to  happen.  Underground  thunder  is  always  an  ominous 
symptom.  — Ah ! There  it  is  again.  Run  into  the  garden.  I 
will  bring  the  chairs  and  wraps.” 

The  house  being  timber  built  and  one  storied,  I had  little  fear 
that  it  would  collapse ; but  anything  may  happen  in  an  earthquake, 
and  in  the  garden  we  were  safe  from  anything  short  of  the  ground 
on  which  we  stood  actually  gaping  or  slipping  bodily  down  the 
mountain-side. 

The  second  shock  was  followed  by  a third,  more  violent  than 
either  of  its  predecessors.  The  earth  trembled  and  heaved  so  that 
we  could  scarcely  stand.  The  underground  thunder  became  louder 
and  continuous  and,  what  was  even  more  appalling,  we  could  dis- 
tinctly see  the  mountam-tops  move  and  shake,  as  if  they  were  going 
to  fall  and  overwhelm  us. 

But  even  this  shock  passed  off  without  doing  any  material  mis- 
chief, and  I was  beginning  to  think  the  worst  was  over  when  one  of 
the^  servants  drew  my  attention  to  the  great  reservoir.  It  smoked, 
and  though  there  was  no  wind  the  water  was  white  with  foam  and 
running  over  the  banks. 

This  went  on  several  minutes,  and  then  the  water,  as  if  yielding 
to  some  irresistible  force,  left  the  sides,  and  there  shot  out  of  it  a 
gigantic  jet  nearly  as  thick  as  the  crater  was  wide  and  hundreds  of 
feet  high.  It  broke  in  the  form  of  a rose  and  fell  in  a fine  spray, 
which  the  setting  sun  hued  with  all  the  color  of  the  rainbow. 

. It  was  the  most  splendid  sight  I had  ever  seen  and  the  most 
portentous-for  I knew  that  the  crater  had  become  active,  and  re- 
membering how  long  it  had  taken  to  fill  I feared  the  worst. 

The  jet  went  on  rising  and  falling  for  nearly  an  hour,  but  as  the 


j 2 MR.  FORTESCVE. 

mass  of  the  water  returned  to  the  crater,  very  little  going  over  the 

sides,  no  great  harm  was  done.  . 

“Thank  Heaven  for  the  respite ! ” exclaimed  Ange  a,  w 
been  clinging  to  me  all  the  time,  trembling  yet  courageous.  Don 

you  think  the  danger  is  now  past,  my  Nigel  r active 

“ For  us  it  may  be.  But  if  the  crater  has  really  become  active 
X fear  that  our  poor  people  at  San  Cristobal  will  be  in  very  great 

danger  indeed.” 

“ No ! God  alone— Hearken ! ” 

A muffled  peal  of  thunder  which  seemed  to  come  fro  ry 

bowels  ol  the  earth,  Mowed  by  a detonation  like  the  *“harge  << 
an  army's  artillery,  and  the  sides  ol  the  crater  opened,  and I w.th  a 
wild  roar  the  pent-up  torrent  burst  forth,  and  leaping 
rolled  a mighty  avalanche  of  water,  toward  the  doomed  oasis. 

S*^y  spoke;  ,e  rr  O,  the  =c,  -e - ns,  the  awM 

ZXIJI  in  the  side  of  the  mountain,  Mowed  in  the  wake 
was  t.f  c;  eap.o.en 

* “ WI 

We  remained  in ' <£  .'r  fwht  « befame  -o  wiry  w„h 

of  going  in-doors , but  a . t that(  despite  the  danger 

watching  and  overwroug  " Before  the  south- 

in  our  cobijas,  the  others  on  thejurf  and  under 


THE  QUENCHING  OF  QUIPAI. 


193 


. ^rh“,1  °Pened  my  eyes  the  sun  was  rising  majestically  above 
the  Cordillera,  but  its  rays  had  not  yet  reached  the  ocean  I rose 
and  looked  round.  The  crater  was  still  smoking,  and  a mist  hung 
over  the  oasis,  but  the  lava  had  ceased  to  flow,  and  not  a zephyr 
moved  the  air,  not  a tremor  stirred  the  earth.  Only  the  blackened 
throat  of  the  volcano  and  the  ghastly  rent  in  its  side  were  there 
to  remind  us  of  the  havoc  that  had  been  wrought  and  the  ruin  of 
Quipai. 

I roused  the  people  and  bade  them  prepare  breakfast,  for 
though  thousands  may  perish  in  a night,  the  survivors  must  eat  on 
the  morrow.  The  house,  albeit  considerably  shaken,  was  still  in- 
tact, but  several  of  the  doors  were  so  tightly  jammed  that  I had  to 
break  them  open  with  my  hatchet. 

When  breakfast  was  ready  I woke  Angela. 

“ Is  it  real,  or  have  I been  dreaming  ? ” she  asked,  with  a shud- 
der, looking  wildly  round. 

“ 14  1S  on,y  400  reaI>”  1 said-  pointing  to  the  smoking  crater. 

“ Misericordia  ! what  shall  we  do  ? ” 

“ First  of  all,  we  must  go  down  to  the  oasis  and  see  whether  any 
of  the  peopie  are  left  alive.”  3 

“ You  are  right.  When  we  have  done  what  we  can  for  the  oth- 
ers it  will  be  time  enough  to  «hink  about  ourselves.” 

“Are  there  any  others?”  I thought,  for  I greatly  doubted 

three^o r f"^  Sh°Uld  ,find  any  aIive’  except,  Perhaps,  Yawl  and  the 
three  or  four  men  who  were  helping  him.  But  I kept  my  misgiv- 
ings to  myself,  and  after  breakfast  we  set  off.  Angela  and  myself 
were  mounted,  and  I assigned  a mule  to  Kidd.  The  man  might  be 
seul  and,  circumstanced  as  we  were,  it  would  have  been  bad 
policy  to  give  him  the  cold  shoulder.  We  also  took  with  us  pro- 

Shi  find  1?  7 / f°r  1 WaS  ^ n°  mCanS  SUre  that  We 

should  find  either  food  or  shelter  on  the  oasis. 
wf.rtrrd  uhe  Volcano  1 looked  into  the  crater.  Nearly 
nl  L™  \ •\  TC  made  by  the  water  Was  a ^eat  mass  of  seeth- 

, ^ 6d  33  a SUre  Sign  4hat  another 
ha?K  ake  P ac.®  a‘  any  moment.  The  valley  lake  had  disappeared  ; 

s,  trees,  soil,  dwellings,  all  were  gone,  leaving  only  bare  rocks 
nd  burning  lava.  Of  San  Cristobal  there  was  not  a vestige  • the 
oasis  had  been  converted  into  a damp  and  steaming  gully,  void 
of  vegetation  and  animal  life.  But,  as  I had  anticipated,  the  force 
of  the  flood  was  spent  before  it  reached  the  coast.  Much  of  the 


194 


MR.  FORTESCUE. 

-.•xrsi 

d"5aip”t'gone,"  she  murmured  at  length,  shuddering  and 

looking  at  me  with  tear-hlled  eyes.  ,f  ha<J  ne<er  been. 

„ ; Z!Z:t  famag.  o<  a great  hi, tie.  These  poor  pe.pie , 

rs,s*;r», «« — «.  «— 

Quipai?  ” another  Abbe  Balthazar 

;To  » later  our 

and  sixty  years  of  life.  And  eyen  if  we  were  allowed 

•work  would  be  destroyed  as  is  > must  go.” 

to  begin  it.  The  volcano  may  be  active  for  ag 

““  Back'to" the  world,  that  in  new  scenes  and  occupation  we  may 
perchance  forget  this  crowning  calamity.” 

::  ^ S s<^ever^frr:^ 

TCpi^’  ^ wouldnever  survive  the  hazards  and  hard- 
ships of  a journey  over  be^pta«d 

because  I love  you-I  would  rather  have  ou  . we 

by  Indians  and  made  caraways.  Yet, 

must  go  by  sea,  m the  slo  p Y ^ suspect  I have 

even  in  that  there  will  be  a senou®  r's  ’ f J ;d  Yhe  sUspicion  is 
the  diamonds  in  my  possession-and  I am  afraid  F 

inevitable — they  will  probably 
“ What  ? ” 

“ Try  to  murder  us.”  ^ }> 

'»  <*  ™,d  *h  T 

*;«  sien  m»  commit  horrible  crime,  (or  i„sig»ih»n,  gams. 


north  by  west. 


195 

and  I have  here  in  my  pocket  the  value  of  a king’s  ransom.  Even 
the  average  man  could  hardly  withstand  so  great  a temptation  ana 
all  we  know  of  these  sailors  is  that  one  of  them  is  a thief  ” 

What  will  you  do  then?  ” 

“ First  of  all,  1 must  find  a safer  hiding-place  for  our  wealth  th 
my  pockets ; and  we  must  be  ever  on  our  guard  The  vn  ^ 
no,  be  long,  ,„d  we  shaft  be  three  against  tw °W' 
Three  ! You  will  take  Ramon,  then  ? ” 

Certainly — if  he  will  go  with  us  ” 

«»:  “ n7,:\t*,„r-Z,  TW  !*I 

flood.”  y have  been  drowned  in  the 

and  YawTll^?  S°'  • Tf  fl°°d  dW  n0tg0  much  farther  than  this 
^s  7!„”;h7)''V"h  “SbM'  B“  - sl“"  soon  know ; 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

NORTH  BY  WEST. 

brides  Yawl  and  his  helpers,  we  found  on  the  beach  about 
irty  men  and  women,  the  saved  of  two  thousand.  Among  them 
was  one  of  the  priests  ordained  by  the  abbe.  All  had  lived  in  the 
lower  part  of  the  oasis,  and  when  the  volcano  began  spouting  water 
after  the  third  earthquake,  they  fled  to  the  coast  and  so  escaped’ 
a ouSh  natura%  much  distressed  (being  bereft  of  home,  kindred 
n all  they  possessed),  they  bore  their  misfortunes  with  the  uncom- 
p aimng  stoicism  so  characteristic  of  their  race. 

The  immediate  question  was  how  to  dispose  of  these  unfortunates 

prefe!  to^r  6 themawayin  the  sIooP-  a"d  I knew  that  they  would 
the  n ■ mainm  the  neighborhood  where  they  were  bom.  But 
asis  was  uninhabitable.  A few  weeks  and  it  would  be  merged 

once  more  the  desert  from  which  had  been  so  ^ 

large  0?  they  ^ould  settle  at  AltaVista  unde; 

To  this  proposal  the  survivors  and  the  priest  gladly  and  grate- 


r. 


196 


MR.  FORTESCUE. 


f . Thpv  were  very  good,  those  poor  Indians,  and 

fully  assented.  They  we  y * aDDroaching  departure  than 
seemed  much  more  concerne  o entreaties  not  to  leave 

their  own  fate,  beseecm  g obdurate.  I could 

them.  Angela  would  have  yielded  but  ^ ^ a re_ 

not  see  that  it  was  in  any  sense  a score  or  two  of  Indians 

mote  corner  of  the : Andes  for  ^ what  would  be  the 

who  were  very  well  able  creatine  another  oasis 

good  of  building  up  another  colony  and  them  in  - 

merely  that  the  evil  genu  o t e lifetime  in  making 

* ni6h,H  r 

Quipai,  devoted  his  en  g nermanently  benefited  mankind.  As 
for  himself  enduring  fame  a p J resolved  not  to 

it  was,  he  had  effected  less  than  nothing,  and 

court  his  fate  by  following  his  example  ^ ^ end  ^ 

Those  were  the  arguments  I used  to  Ang  ^ ^ ^ ^ 

not  only  fully  agreed  w!th  me  thaUj  were  ^ hand.  Yawi 

the  sooner  we  went  the  bet  . twenty-four  hours.  There 

could  have  the  yacht  ready  or  se  ^ and  get  water  and  pro- 

was  little  more  to  do  ^ k filied  forthwith-for  the  water  in 

visions  on  board,  uaflinctd  people  to 

the  channels  was  fast  framin' ! two 

work  preparing 0f  our  clothing,  bedding, 
^^^r^-bich  I thought  would  be  useful  on  the 

voyage.  was  mv  own  personal  attendant.  He 

he  was  descended  from  some  white  casta  ,d  break 

„«  COPS,  and  been  adopted  by  h*  1^  ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ 

eiefSnL  blen  theiaitbfol  companion  of  my  wandering  and  m, 

trusty  friend.  , , Yawl  0n  the  sloop. 

My  »<«  1 th^boat  victualed,  I had  «o  fear  of 

As  the  sails  were  not  bent  Tn  the  morning  Ramon  and 

“^“S^Xn^naefwehadevety- 

S££«  I — « »*  ■ -* 


north  by  west. 


197 

where  I could  turn  some  of  my  diamonds  into  cash  and  take  shin- 
pmg  for  England  tne  West  Indies,  or  the  United  States.  We  were 
between  Valpara.se  and  Callao,  and  the  former  place,  as  being  on 
the  way  seemed  the  more  desirable  place  to  make  for.  But  af  the 
prevailing  winds  on  the  coast  are  north  and  northwest  a voyage  in 
he  opposite  direction  would  involve  much  beating  up  and 

relCheS,TaHd’-wialIfPr°bability’  be  l0ng  and  tedi°us.P  For  thes£ 

— faV°r  °f  CalIa°’  ^ t0M  “ * ^ - 

“Just  as  you  like,  sir,”  he  said ; “ it  is  all  the  same  to  Yawl  and 

think  herehW^T‘  BUt  't  S a l0nS’Sh  Stretch  t0  Callao-  D°n’t  you 
think  we  had  better  make  for  some  nearer  place?  There's  IsLy 

“ "d  1 d0“bl  whMh"  « - - « - 

„ J Wf  make  ;t  last  we  get  to  Callao,”  I answered,  sharply  • 
Accept  under  compulsion  I will  put  in  neither  at  Islay  nor 

f 11  fght<  sir '}  We  are  under  your  orders,  and  what  you  say 
shall  be  done,  as  far  as  lies  in  our  power.”  7 7 

Kidd’s  answer  was  civil  but  his  manner  was  surly  and  defiant 

case  of  need  , might  claim  tl)e  n * " 

whom  I was  sure  to  find  there  I was  consul, 

should  find  one  either  at  Islay  or  Artca’  nl"“  U'  ,h“  1 

q»te  poaslfelt  r(to“ee  ateeS  "a  ££$£££*  J ~ 

sivenor  SonT P^nger,  w„  neither  e«,e„. 
Angeia  and  myadI, “ 

dress,  Among  the  things  broughl 


MR.  FORTESCUE. 


198 

exquisite  little  dagger  with  a Damascened  blade,  which  I gave  to 
Angela.  1 had  my  hunting-knife,  and  Ramon  his  machete. 

I laid  it  down  as  a rule  from  which  there  was  to  be  no  depart- 
ure that  Ramon  and  I were  neither  to  sleep  at  the  same  time  nor 
be  in  the  cabin  together,  and  that  when  we  had  anything  particular 
to  say  we  should  say  it  in  Quipai.  As  it  happened,  he  knew  a little 
English ; I had  taught  my  wife  my  mother-tongue,  and  Ramon,  by 
dint  of  hearing  it  spoken,  and  with  a little  instruction  from  me  and 
from  her,  had  become  so  far  proficient  in  the  language  that  he 
could  understand  the  greater  part  of  what  was  said.  This,  how- 
ever, was  not  known  to  Kidd  and  Yawl;  I told  him  not  to  let  them 
know ; but  whenever  opportunity  occurred  to  listen  to  their  conver- 
sation! and  report  it  to  me.  I thought  that  if  they  meditated  evil 
against  us  I might  in  this  way  obtain  timely  information  of  their 
designs;  and  I considered  that,  in  the  circumstances  (our  lives 
being,  as  I believed,  in  jeopardy),  the  expedient  was  quite  justifi- 

^ We  sailed  at  sunset  and  got  well  away,  and  the  clear  sky  and 
resplendent  stars,  the  calm  sea  and  the  fair  soft  wind  augured  well 
for  a prosperous  voyage.  Yet  my  heart  was  sad  and  my  spirits 
were  low.  The  parting  with  our  poor  Indians  had  been  very  try- 
ing and  I could  not  help  asking  myself  whether  I had  acted  quite 
rightly  in  deserting  them,  whether  it  would  not  have  been  nobler 
(though  perhaps  not  so  worldly  wise)  to  throw  in  my  lot  with  theirs 
and  try  to  recreate  the  oasis,  as  Angela  had  suggested.  I also 
doubted  whether  I was  acting  the  part  of  a prudent  man  in  embark- 
ing my  wife,  my  fortune,  and  myself  on  a wretched  little  sloop  (which 
wLd  probably  founder  in  the  first  storm),  under  the  control  of  two 
men  of  whom  I knew  no  good,  and  who,  as  I feared,  might  play 

false  ^ • 

But  whether  I had  acted  wisely  or  unwisely,  there  was  no  going 
back  now,  and  as  I did  not  want  Angela  to  perceive  that  I was 
either  dubious  or  downcast,  I pulled  myself  together  put  on  a 
cheerful  countenance,  and  spoke  hopefully  of  our  prospects. 

She  was  with  us  on  deck,  Kidd  being  at  the  he  m.  „ 

“ I have  no  very  precise  idea  how  far  we  may  be  rom  a ao, 

I said,  “but  if  this  wind  lasts  we  should  be  there  in  five  or  six  days 
at  the  outside.  Don’t  you  think  so,  Kidd  ? „ 

“ May  be.  You  still  think  of  going  to  Callao,  then  ? 

. -still  think  of  going  to  Callao  ! I am  determined  to  go  to  Cal- 


north  by  west. 


r99 

smarted?”7  d°  ^ ^ n0t  1 distinctIy  Say  50  before  we 

“ I thought  you  had  may  be  changed  your  mind.  And  Callao 
won  t be  easy  to  make.  Neither  Yawl  nor  me  has  ever  been  there  • 
we  don  t know  the  bearings,  and  we  have  no  compass,  and  I don’t 
know  much  about  the  stars  in  these  latitudes.” 

But  I do,  and  better  still,  I have  a compass.” 

“A  compass!  Do  you  hear  that,  Bill  Yawl?  Mr.  Fortescue 

f g0t  f “mpaSS-  Go  t0  Callao  •'  Why>  can  go  a’most  any- 
where.  Where  have  you  got  it,  sir— in  the  cabin  ? ” 

Yes,  Abbe  Balthazar  and  I made  it,  ever  so  long  since.  It  is 
only  rudely  fashioned,  and  has  never  been  adjusted,  but  I dare  say 
it  will  answer  the  purpose  as  well  as  another.” 

"°f  course  ^ will,  and  if  you’ll  kindly  bring  it  here,  it’ll  be  a 
great  help.  I reckon  if  I keep  her  head  about — ” 

“ Nor’  by  west.” 

“ Ay’  ay;  Slr’  that’s  1 have  no  doubt.  If  I keep  her  head  nor’ 
y wes  , dare  say  we  shall  fetch  Callao  as  soon  as  you  was  a-sav- 
mg  just  now.  But  Bill  and  me  should  have  the  compass  before  us 
when  were  steering;  and  to-morrow  we’ll  try  to  rig  up  a bit  of  a 
bmnacle.  You,  perhaps,  would  not  mind  fetching  it  now,  sir 
Bring  that  patent  lantern  of  yours,  Bill.” 

hot/,  fetahed  the  T‘pass  and  Yawl  the  Iantern-  made  of  a glass 

K‘dd  WaS  qUlt®  delighted  with  the  compass,  the  card  of  which 
as  properiy  marked  and  framed  in  a block  of  wood  and  said  it 

AfteTa  JUSpende.d  °n  ^mbaIs  and  fixed  on  a binnacle, 
her  Kut  onI  W‘ 1 ! " “e‘a ’ who  feIt  tired,  went  below,  and  I with 

intended  t/  ° 6tCh  T and  3 pillow’  for’  as  1 told  Kidd,  I 

't  is"”  **  the  CaWn  bein?  t0°  d0Se  and 
haH  P Thls  was  true>  yet  n°t  the  whole  truth  I 

Kidd  oTYawiTl"1  1 ST  tHat  noth'nK  would  be  easier  thanfor 

h 4 us  at  tie'  P °n  th6fCabin-hatch  while  I was  below,  and  so 

enoii  could  not  u Ram°n’  th°Ugh  a Stalwart  y°mh 

“ lust  a n°  .,COntend  with  the  the  two  sailors  single-handed. 

, 3 ^°U  1 ce’  Sir  ’ ^ s the  same  to  me  ” answered  Kidd 

shortly,  and  ,he»  relapsed  iato  thoughtful  silence, 

JJtTt  3t  TT  ScheminS  something  which  boded  us  no 
S . gh  as  yet,  I had  no  idea  what  it  could  be.  His  motive 


200 


MR.  FORTE  SC  UE. 


for  desiring  to  take  the  sloop  to  Islay  or  Arica,  rather  than  to  Cal- 
lao, was  pretty  obvious,  but  why  he  should  change  his  mind  on  the 
subject  simply  because  of  the  compass,  passed  my  comprehension. 
We  could  make  Callao  merely  by  running  up  the  coast,  with  wmch, 
despite  his  disclaimer,  I had  not  the  least  doubt  he  was  quite  famil- 
iar ; and  even  if  he  were  not,  there  was  nothing  in  a compass  to 
enlighten  him. 

But  whatever  his  scheme  might  be  I did  not  think  he  would  at- 
tempt to  use  force— unless  he  could  take  us  at  disadvantage.  Man 
for  man,  Ramon  and  I were  quite  equal  to  Kidd  and  Yawl.  We 
were,  moreover,  better  armed,  as,  so  far  as  I knew,  they  had  no 
weapons,  save  their  sailors’  knives.  In  a personal  struggle,  they 
might  come  off  second-best ; were,  in  any  case,  likely  to  get  badly 
hurt,  and,  unless  I was  much  mistaken,  they  wanted  to  get  hold  of 
my  diamonds  with  a minimum  of  risk  to  themselves.  Wherefore,  so 
long  as  we  kept  a sharp  lookout,  we  had  little  to  fear  from  open 
violence.  As  for  the  scheme  which  was  seething  in  Kidd’s  brain, 
I must  needs  wait  for  further  developments  before  taking  measures 

to  counteract  it.  ... 

When  I had  come  to  this  conclusion  I told  R.amon,  in  Quipai,  to 
lie  down,  and  that  when  I wanted  to  sleep  I would  waken  him. 

I watched  until  midnight,  at  which  hour  Yawl  relieved  Kidd  at 
the  helm,  and  Kidd  turned  in.  Shortly  afterward  I roused  Ramon, 
and  bade  him  keep  watch  while  I slept. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

FOUND  OUT. 

When  I awoke  it  was  broad  daylight,  Yawl  at  the  helm,  the 
sloop  bowling  along  at  a great  rate  before  a fresh  breeze.  But,  to 
my  utter  surprise,  there  was  no  land  in  sight. 

“ How  is  this,  Yawl  ? ” I asked ; “ we  are  out  of  doors.  How  have 

you  been  steering  ? ” 

« The  course  you  laid  down  sir,  nor  by  west.” 

“ That  is  impossible.  I am  not  mifth  of  a seaman,  yet  I know 
that  if  you  had  been  steering  nor’  by  west,  we  should  have  the  coast 
under  our  lee,  and  we  can  not  oven  see  the  peaks  of  the  Cordillera. 


FOUND  OUT. 


201 


KiHd°f  Course  you  can  not  < they  are  covered  with  a mist,"  put  in 

‘‘  I see  no  mist ; moreover,  the  Cordillera  is  visible  a hundred  miles 
away  and  by  good  rights  we  should  not  be  more  than  thirty  or  forty 
miles  from  the  coast.”  . 


“It's  the  fault  of  your  compass,  then.  ' The  darned  thing  is  all 
wrong.  Better  chuck  it  overboard  and  have  done  with  it  ’’ 

“ If  you  do,  I’ll  chuck  you  overboard.  The  compass  is'quite  cor- 
rect.  You  have  been  steering  due  west  for  some  purpose  of  your 
own,  and  against  my  orders.” 

“Oh  that’s  your  game,  is  it?  You  are  the  skipper,  and  us  a 
brace  of  lubbers  as  doesn  t know  north  from  west,  I suppose.  Let 
him  sail  the  cursed  craft  hissel,  Bill.” 


awl  let  go  the  tiller,  on  which  the  sloop  broached  to  and  nearly 
went  on  her  beam  ends.  This  was  more  than  I could  bear,  and, 
calling  on  Ramon  to  follow  me,  I sprang  forward,  seized  Kidd  by 
the  throat,  and,  drawing  my  dagger,  told  him  that  unless  he  prom- 
ised to  obey  my  orders  and  do  his  duty,  I would  make  an  end  of  him 
then  and  there.  Meanwhile,  Ramon  was  keeping  Yawl  off  with  his 
machete,  flourishing  it  round  his  head  in  a way  that  made  the  old 
salt  s hair  nearly  stand  on  end.  Seeing  that  resistance  was  useless, 
Kidd  caved  in. 


“I  ask  your  pardon,  Mr.  Fortescue,”  he  said,  hoarsely,  for  my 
hand  was  still  on  his  throat.  “ I ask  your  pardon,  but  I lost  my 
temper,  and  when  I lose  my  temper  it's  the  very  devil ; I don’t  know 
what  I m doing ; but  I promise  faithfully  to  obey  your  orders  and 
do  my  duty.” 

On  this  I loosed  him,  and  bade  Ramon  put  up  his  machete  and 
let  Yawl  go  back  to  his  steering.  In  one  sense  this  was  an  untoward 
incident.  It  made  Kidd  my  personal  enemy.  Quite  apart  from  the 
question  of  the  diamonds,  he  would  bear  me  a grudge  and  do  me  an 
ill  turn  if  he  could.  He  was  that  sort  of  a man.  Henceforward  it 
would  be  war  to  the  knife  between  us,  and  I should  have  to  be  more 
on  my  guard  than  ever.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was  a distinct  ad- 
vantage to  have  beaten  him  in  a contest  for  the  mastery  ; if  he  had 
beaten  me,  I should  have  had  to  accept  whatever  conditions  he 
might  have  thought  fit  to  impose,  for  I was  quite  unable  to  sail  the 
sloop  myself. 

A light  was  thrown  on  his  motive  for  changing  the  sloop’s  course 
by  something  Ramon  told  me  when  the  trouble  was  over.  Shortly 


202 


MR.  FORTE  SC  C/E. 


before  I awoke  he  heard  Kidd  say  to  Yawl  that  he  would  very  much 
like  to  know  where  I had  hidden  the  diamonds,  and  that  if  they 
could  only  keep  her  head  due  west,  we  should  make  San  Ambrosio 
about  the  same  time  that  I was  expecting  to  make  Callao. 

I had  never  heard  of  San  Ambrosio  before ; but  the  fact  of  Kidd 
wanting  to  go  thither  was  reason  enough  for  my  not  wanting  to 
p-o  so  I bade  Yawl  steer  due  north,  that  is  to  say,  parallel  with 
the  coast,  and  as  the  continent  of  South  America  trends  considera- 
bly to  the  westward,  about  twenty  degrees  south  of  the  equator,  I 
reckoned  that  this  course  should  bring  us  within  sight  of  land  on  the 
following  day,  or  the  day  after,  according  to  the  speed  we  made. 

I not  only  told  Yawl  and  Kidd  to  steer  north,  but  saw  that  they 
did  it,  as  to  which,  the  compass  being  now  always  before  us,  there 
was  no  difficulty.  Thinking  it  was  well  to  learn  to  steer,  I took  a 
hand  now  and  again  at  the  tiller,  under  the  direction  of  Kidd,  whose 
manners  my  recent  lesson  had  greatly  improved.  He  was  very  atta- 
ble,  and  obeyed  my  orders  with  alacrity  and  seeming  good-will. 

The  next  day  I began  to  look  out  for  land,  without,  however, 
much  expectation  of  seeing  any,  but  when  a second  day,  being  the 
third  of  our  voyage,  ended  with  the  same  result  or,  rather,  want  of 
result,  I became  uneasy,  and  expressed  myself  in  this  sense  to  Kidd. 

“You  have  miscalculated  the  distance,”  he  said,  “and  there s 
nothing  so  easy,  when  you’ve  no  chart  and  can  take  no  observa- 
tions. ° And  how  can  you  tell  the  sloop’s  rate  of  sailing  ? The  wind 
is  fair  and  constant— it  always  is  in  the  trades— but  how  do  you 
know  as  there  is  not  a strong  current  dead  against  us?  I don’t 
think  there’s  the  least  use  looking  for  land  before  to-morrow. 

This  rather  reassured  me.  It  was  quite  true  that  the  sloop 
might  not  be  going  so  fast  as  I reckoned,  and  the  coast  be  farther 
off  than  I thought— although  I did  not  much  believe  in  the  current. 

But  the  morrow  came  and  went,  and  still  no  sign  of  land,  and 
again,  on  the  fifth  day,  the  sun  rose  on  an  unbroken  expanse  of 
water.  In  clear  weather — and  no  weather  could  be  clearer  the 
Andes,  as  I had  heard,  were  visible  to  mariners  a hundred  and  fifty 
miles  out  at  sea.  Yet  not  a peak  could  be  seen.  Then  I knew  be- 
yond a doubt  that  something  was  wrong.  What  could  it  be  . . bail- 
ing as  swiftly  as  we  had  been  for  five  days,  it  was  inconceivable 
that  we  should  not  hhve  made  land  if  we  had  been  steering  north, 
and  for  that  I had  the  evidence  of  my  senses.  Where,  then,  was 
the  mystery  ? - 


found  out. 


203 


, ^ r “ked  myself  this  question,  Ramon  touched  ms  on  the 
shoulder,  and  whispered  in  Quipai : 

“Just  now  Yawl  said  to  Kidd  that  it  was  quite  time  we  sighted 
San  Ambrosio,  and  that  if  we  missed  it,  after  all,  it  would  be  cursed 

^all^t.-dd  anSW6red  ^ ^ S 

This  was  more  puzzling  still.  He  had  said  before  that,  if  we 

the  Ze  T °n  WeStWard  taCk’  We  Sh°Uld  make  San  Ambrosio  at 
the  time  I was  expecting  to  sight  Callao,  and  now,  although  we  were 

the  Zme1!6  ’ VUkinS  C°Unted  °n  makin£  San  Ambrosio  all 

Where  was  San  Ambrosio?  Not  on  the  coast,  for  they  were 

clearly  looking  for  it  then,  had  probably  been  looking  for  it  some 
ume.  and  the  mainland  must  be  at  least  two  hundred°mi.es  aTy 

lie  ho  h°t  Z C°aSt  n Ambrosio  was  an  is,“d,  yet  how  it  could 
he  both  to  the  west  and  to  the  north  was  not  quite  obvious.  And 

who  w HuX;  Md  why  shou]d  famng  jn  w.th  h.m  make  matters  an 

riS  fZ  7 mtereStm?„ShiprnateS?  0f  one  thing  I felt  sure-all 

* these  meant  all  wrong  for  me,  and  it  behooved  me  to 

prevent  the  meeting-but  how  ? 

pacing1  to  Zw  th°Ug,hts  ,were  Passi^  through  my  mind,  I was 
P & and  fro  on  the  sloop’s  deck,  where  was  also  Angela  sit- 

hell  °"  a/fa’  and  lean'ng  against  the  taffraiI>  Kidd  being  at  the 
hdm  and  Ramon  and  Yawl  smokin?  the  bow  * ^1  16 

Th“si  ■ “ 

: As  1 *■» 

JrZieTXhVlbZSSAframeu  bUt  " makeShift  affair’  in  a ^ode^ 

a makeshift  h Z ,attach  d makeshift  ^imba^  a"d  hung  on 

thZcabllt  ra<?H  H6  I61'  bdn?  fiX6d  b6tWeen  the  tiHerlnd 

teth-r  r 11'  Tbe  deck  Was  Very  narrow.  and  to  lengthen  my 

Trr  fhe  and  the  binnacle,  some- 

raZ felFaJhwSh,  r ^ Angda'  °nCe'  &S  1 dld  so’ the  s«n’s 

tooZtrZ  °?  S fm’ and>  happenin^  the  Same  <™t 

sudZ  rush  fi  ZaSS’  umade  a diSC0Very  that  sent  the  blood  with 
0 TiZ  i mY  ^ and  th6n  t0  my  brain  : a smaI1  Piece 

framework  of  Z “ ^ light’  had  been  driven  into  the 

“ W ” thereby  d f,COmpasf’  c ose  t0  that  part  of  the  card  marked 

«»«  sbcfoi  1“  ""Je  “ the  **»  » q»eslion.  so  ,ha. 

oar  departure  from  Quipai,  we  had  been  steering  due 


204 


MR.  FOR  FESCUE. 

west  instead  of  north  by  west,  as  I intended  and  believed.  The 
dodge  might  not  have  deceived  a seaman,  but  it  had  certainly  e- 

CelV<?Youinfemal  scoundrel,  I have  found  you  out.  Look  th"e  ' 

I shouted,  pointing  at  the  piece  of  iron.  As  I spoke  Kidd  let  go 
the  tiller,  and  quick  as  lightning  gave  me  a tremendous  Wow  with 
his  fist  between  the  shoulders,  which  just  missed  thro wmg  me  hea 
foremost  down  the  cabin-hatch,  and  sent  me  face  downward  on  the 
deck  breathless  and  half  stunned.  Before  I »»f thtnk of 
rising  Kidd,  who,  as  he  struck,  shouted  to  Yawl  to  kill  the  I 
dian/'  was  kneeling  on  my  back  with  his  fingers  round  my  wind- 

^ ^ « a t jast  i I have  you  now,  you  conceited  jackanapes,  you  d d 
sea-latlr  Where  have  you  got  them  diamonds?  You  wont 
answer'  Shall  I throttle  you,  or  brain  you  with  this  belaying  pm. 
I’ll  throttle  you  ; then  there’ll  be  none  of  your  dirty  blood  to  swab 

UPWith  that  the  villain  squeezed  my  windpipe  still  tighter, and 
quite unable  either  to  struggle  or  speak  I was 

Lt  when  his  hold  suddenly  relaxed,  and  groaning  deeply,  he  sank 
beside ^ne  on  the  deck.  Freed  from  his  weight,  I staggered  to  my 
feet  to  find  that  I owed  my  life  to  Angela,  who  had  used  her  d g 

ger  to  such  purpose  that  ^kmhirn,”  she 

cH^ratrSrand  pale ’with  horror  at  the  thought  of  her 

own  boldness  ^ suddeti  that  the  boy  had  been  unable 

■■sssS&SE&iSS 

Sd  down  L head,  while  Ramon,  astride  on  his  body,  pinioned  his 
Now,  look  here.  Yawl ! ” I said.  “ You  have  tried  to  commit 
buTfwm s^ateymrr  hfetn  SiS  You  mSpromise  to  obe^ 


POUND  OUT. 


205 

mainland.  In  return,  I promise  not  to  bring  any  charge  against  you 
when  we  get  there.”  * 

“All  right,  sir!  Kidd  was  my  master,  and  I obeyed  him  ; now 
you  are  my  master,  and  I will  obey  you.” 

I quite  believed  that  the  old  salt  was  speaking  sincerely  He 
had  been  so  completely  under  Kidd’s  influence  as  to  have  no  will  of 
his  own. 

“ Good  1 but  there  is  something  else.  I must  have  those  dia- 
monds he  stole  from  my  house  at  Alta  Vista.  Where  are  they  ? ” 

“ Stitched  inside  his  jersey,  under  the  armhole.” 

I went  to  Kidd’s  body,  cut  open  his  jersey,  and  found  the  dia- 
monds in  two  small  canvas  bags.  They  were  among  the  largest  I 
had,  and  (as  I subsequently  found)  worth  fifty  thousand  pounds. 
After  we  had  thrown  the  body  overboard,  I ordered  Yawl*  to  put 
the  sloop  on  the  starboard  tack,  and  myself  taking  the  helm 
changed  the  course  to  due  north.  Then  I asked  him  who  he  and 
Kidd  were,  whence  they  came,  and  why  they  had  so  shamefully  de- 
ceived  me  as  to  the  course  we  were  steering. 

On  this.  Yawl  answered  in  a dry,  matter-of-fact  manner,  as  if  it 
were  all  m the  way  of  business,  that  Kidd  had  been  captain  and  he 
boatswain  and  carpenter  of  a “free-trader,”  known  as  the  Sky 
Scraper  Sulky  Sail,  and  by  several  other  aliases;  that  the  cap- 

wlenlT  MuUt  T " dlVisi0n  °f  PIunder’  ot  which  Kidd 

wanted  th6  lion  s share,  the  upshot  being  that  he  and  Yawl,  who  ■ 

adrift  rn  m m’  W6re  sh°Ved  int0  the  din£hy  a"d  sent 

adrift.  In  these  circumstances  they  naturally  made  for  the  nearest 

and,  which  proved  to  be  Quipai,  and  deeming  it  inexpedient  to  con- 
less  that  they  were  pirates,  pretended  to  be  castaways.  They 
built  the  sloop  with  the  idea  of  stealing  away  by  themselves,  and 
but  for  my  d.scovery  of  the  theft  of  the  diamonds  and  the  bursting 
o e crater  would  have  done  so.  As  I suspected,  Kidd  allowed 
us  to  go  with  them,  solely  with  a view  to  cutting  our  throats  and 
appropriating  the  remainder  of  the  diamonds.  This  design  beino- 
rusirated  by  our  watchfulness,  he  next  conceived  the  notion  of  put- 
ing  in  at  Anca  or  Islay,  charging  me  with  robbing  him,  and,  in 
collusion  with  the  authorities,  whom  he  intended  to  bribe,  depriv- 
ing me  of  all  I possessed.  This  plan  likewise  failing,  and  having  a 
decided  objection  to  Callao,  where  he  was  known  and  where  there 
might  be  a British  cruiser  as  well  as  a British  consul,  Kidd  hit  on 
the  brilliant  idea  of  doctoring  the  compass  and  making  me  think  we 


2o6 


MR.  FOR  RESCUE. 


were  going  north  by  west,  while  our  true  course  was  almost  due 
. ?.  nhipct  heino-  to  reach  San  Ambrosio,  a group  of  rocky 
•sfets  some  three  hundred  miles  from  the  coast,  and  a pirate  strong- 
hold  and  trysting-place.  If  they  did  not  find  any  old  comrade 
there,  they  would  at  least  find  provisions,  water,  and  firearms* 
so  be  able,  as  they  thought,  to  despoil  me  of  my  diamonds.  A 
Kidd  had  hopes  of  falling  in  with  Captain  Hux,  a worthy  of  the 
fame  kidney  who  commanded  the  “free-trader”  Culebra,  and 
whose  favorite  cruising-ground  war  northward  of  San  Ambrosnn 
“But  in  my  opinion,”  observed  Mr.  Yawl,  coolly,  when  he  had 
finished  his  story,  “in  my  opinion,  we  passed  ^‘  o t e ““ 
last  night,  and  so  I told  Kidd ; they  re  very  small,  and  as  there 

liSh“fffmus"be'a  long  way  from  Callao,  then.  How  far  do  you 

SUP“  That  is  more  than  I can  tell ; may  be  four  hundred  miles.” 

“ And  how  long  do  you  think  it  will  take  us  to  get  there,  assum- 
ing it  to  be  four  hundred  miles  ? ” . . , 

g“  Well,  on  this  tack  and  with  this  breeze-you  see  sir,  the  vv  nd 
has  fallen  off  a good  deal  since  sunrise-with  this  breeze,  ab 

eiS«‘Eight’’days!”  I exclaimed,  in  consternation.  “ Eight  days! 

and  I don’t  think  we  have  food  and  water  enough  for  two  Come 
with  me  below,  Ramon,  and  let  me  see  how  much  we  have  left. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 


GRIEF  AND  PAIN. 


It  was  even  worse  than  I feared.  Reckoning  neither  on  a 

longer  voyage  than  five  or  six  days,  nor  on  being  so  far  from  the 
coast  that  in  case  of  emergency,  we  could  not  obtain  fresh  supplies 
we  had  used  both  provisions  and  water  rather  recklessly,  and 
7o.nd  that  of  the  latter  we  had  no  more  than  a.  our  ««».  rate  * 
consumption,  would  last  eighteen  hours,  while  of  food  » had 
much  as  might  suffice  us  for  twenty-four.  It  was  necessary to  re 
”o„r  allowance  forthwith,  and  1 put  it  to  Jaw,  whe.tar  w 
could  not  make  lor  some  nearer  port  than  Callao.  Better  risk 


GkiEP  and  paw. 


20? 


less  of  my  diamonds  than  die  of  hunger  and  thirst  v r 
was  unfavorable.  The  nearest  nnrt  nf  *k  rSt'  Yaw  s answer 
the  farthest  as  to  time  To  rm  h 6 Coast  as  to  distance  was 

we  should  have  to  make  IT  ,t  \ ^ n°rth  ^ W 

Callao,  or  the  coast  thereabout  couTd  T TTh"  Wher6aS 
north.  So  there  seemed  nothing  for  it  but  to  e 7 ^ C,Ue 
sources  to  the  utmost,  and  make  all  the  J ^ 

as  we  might,  it  was  evident  that  i peed  W could.  Yet,  do 

of  food  and  water  from  some  p’assingTip  we '1i  TrlT  & SUPPl>’ 
ourselves  on  a starvation  allowance.  I vSs  hn  " ‘°  PUt 

concerned  for  myself  and  th*  mu  i , aS>  however,  much  less 
as  she  had  beTto  aTn  le  **’  T"  f°r  A^da-  Accustomed 
af  Quipai,  the  anxieties  we  T’  T CatastroPhe 

of  the  sloop,  were  telling-  vkihi  \ dared’  and  tbe  confinement 
death,  richly  as  Td  Trfe  h^T  5 b ^ MoreOW’  Kidd’S 
She  strove  to  be  cheerful T l T t been  a &reat  shock  to  her. 

wrsK^rSSS 5 

duced  to  two  knots  an  hour,  and  ouf  hope  of  rea‘hint  r T ^ 
Meanwhile,  Angela  grew  weaker  and weaker^f^to”  T' 
fever,  was  at  times  even  delirious,  and  I began  to  fear  that  T 

a;p  wS1 1 T„rwr°e"! 

wS  sir  ts  .*  rr ,h: 

at  theke2oI,aWl’haS 

an  which  centered  our  hopes.  g **  y 1 th  nobIe  shlP 


2o8 


MR.  EORTESCUE. 


..Three  masts!  A merchantman?  No,  I’m  blest  if  I don’t 
think  she's  a man-of-war.  _ So  she  is,  a frigate  and  a firm  un-forty 
or  fifty  guns,  I should  say.” 

“ Undei  what  flag.  . Tack'  No  stars  and  stripes. 

« 1 11  tell  vou  in  a minute— Union  jacK . ino,  si  r 

She  belongs^  to  Uncle  Sant,  she  do,  sit,  and  he’s  no  call  u,  b« 

tsifisr-.*  eras?!*  »•'-  - 

•'“fwho1^  'on  ”»r«h.t  do  yon  wan.  > " asked  a vole,  from  the 

Cod's  sake,  throw  u.  a 

""The  LTe  beS'thrown  and  .he  sloop  made  fast,  I asked 1 the  of. 

" whl« 7a "whom  .’rightly  conlectnred  to  he  the  cap- 

tain:  Weli ..  he  said,  quietly,  “ what  can  I do  for  you  ? ” 

“ Water,”  I gasped,  for  the  exertion  of  coming  on  board  ha 

be“^°XrSS^'  Why  did  no.  f think  of  it  before  ? 
You  shall  ’have  both  food  and  drink.  Somebody  ^jaKr  w 'h 

man.  Might  I ask  your  name,  sir  ? 

“ Thank^yo^Mr.  Fortescue.  Mine  is  Bigelow,  and  I have  the 


GRIEF  AND  PAIN. 


20Q 


fans.— There ! Take  a long  drink.  You  will  feel  better  now,  and 
when  you  have  had  a square  meal,  you  shall  tell  me  all  about  it. 
And  the  others  ? You  are  an  old  salt,  anybody  can  see  that.” 

Yes,  sir.  Bill  Yawl  at  your  service,  an  old  man-o ’-war’s  man, 
able-bodied  seaman,  bo’s’n,  and  ship’s  carpenter,  anything  you  like 
sir.  ^ Ax  your  pardon,  sir,  but  a glass  of  half-water  grog— ” 

“ Not  until  you  have  eaten.  Then  you  may  have  two  glasses 
Tomkins,  take  these  men  to  the  purser  and  tell  him  to  give  them  a 
square  meal.  The  doctor  is  attending  to  your  wife,  Mr.  Fortescue. 
She  is  in  my  state-room  and  shall  have  every  comfort  we  can  give 
her.”  & 

“I  thank  you  with  all  my  heart.  Captain  Bigelow.  You  are 
really  too  good,  I can  never — ” 

“ Tut,  tut,  tut,  my  dear  sir.  Pray  don’t  say  a word.  I have 
only  given  her  my  spare  state-room.  Mr.  Charles  will  take  you  to 
the  wardroom,  we  can  talk  afterward.  Meanwhile,  I shall  have 
your  belongings  got  on  board,  and  then,  I suppose,  we  had  better 
sink  that  craft  of  yours.  If  we  leave  her  to  knock  about  the  ocean 
she  may  be  knocking  against  some  ship  in  the  night  and  doing  her 
a mischief.” 

After  I had  eaten  the  “ square  meal  ” set  for  me  in  the  ward- 
room, and  spent  a few  minutes  with  Angela,  I joined  the  captain 
and  first  lieutenant  in  the  former’s  state-room,  and  over  a glass  of 
grog,  told  them  briefly,  but  frankly,  something  of  my  life  and  ad- 
ventures. 

“ WelI>  il  is  the  queerest  yarn  I ever  heard  ; but  I dare  say  none 
the  less  true  on  that  account,”  said  Captain  Bigelow,  when  I had 
mshed.  “ With  that  sweet  lady  for  your  wife  and  your  belt  full 
of  diamonds,  you  may  esteem  yourself  one  of  the  most  fortunate  of 
men.  And  you  did  quite  right  to  get  away  from  that  place.  But 

what  was  your  point  ? where  did  you  expect  to  get  to  with  that 
Sloop  of  yours  ? ” 

“ Callao.” 

“ Ca'la°  ! Why  the  c°urse  you  were  on  would  never  have  taken 
you  to  Callao.  Callao  lies  nor’  by  east,  not  nor’  by  west.  If  you 

ad  not  fallen  in  with  us,  I am  afraid  you  would  never  have  got 
anywhere.  6 

, T-3?1  fSU,re  we  should  not-  Three  days  more  and  we  should 

nave  died  of  thirst.” 

Where  shall  we  put  you  ashore  ? ** 


216 


MR.  FORTE  SCUM. 


« That  Is  for  you  to  say.  Where  would  it  be  convenient?  " 

::  r ^ m—  to  a**.; 

but  before  going  ^England,  I should  like  to  call  at  LaGuayra,  and 

and  had  all  tho, 

"nd  are  men  who  would 

t0  Lon' 

how  many  diamonds  you  carried  aDOur  yu  , 

aside,  “ your  wife  . h sudden  sink- 

i„e;rrt"  - — 

than  his  words. 

unt  now — with  nourishing  food  and  your  ca  , „ 

quickly  regain  her  ^h  Educed  and  the 

“ For  the  moment.  But  she  15  very 

symptoms  are  grave.  A recur.^enC^d  1 \ k ow  what  you  are  hint- 
-But  such.  f«.er  » so  eastl,  cu  „er  die, 

ing  at,  doctor.  Yet  I can  n°  miraculously  res- 

After  surmounting  so  many  dangers,  and  being 

cued,  and  with  prospects  so  fair,  it  wou  thought  it  my 

“ I w®  do  S is  with  God.” 

duty  to  prepare  you  for  the  worst. 


This  is  a part  of  my  story  on  which  I wife  was 

yet  I can  n<*  think  of  * “ J j dand  in  mine,  as  sweetly 

2";  leehdd 

officers  I should  have  buried  myself  with  Angela 


OLD  FRIENDS  AND  A NEW  FOE.  ^il 

sea.  I owed  him  my  life  a second  time— such  as  it  was— more,  for 
he  taught  me  the  duty  and  grace  of  resignation,  showed  me  that 
though  to  cherish  the  memory  of  a great  sorrow  ennobles  a man  he 
who  abandons  himself  to  unmeasured  grief  is  as  pusillanimous  as  he 
who  shirks  his  duty  on  the  field  of  battle. 

Captain  Bigelow  had  a great  heart  and  a chivalrous  nature 
After  Angela’s  death  he  treated  me  more  as  a cherished  son  than  as 
a casual  guest.  Before  we  reached  Panama  we  were  fast  friends. 
He  provided  me  with  clothing  and  gave  me  money  for  my  immedi- 
ate wants,  as  to  have  attempted  to  dispose  of  any  of  my  diamonds 
t ere,  or  at  Chagres,  might  have  exposed  me  to  suspicion,  possibly 
to  danger.  In  acknowledgment  of  his  kindness  and  as  a souvenir 
of  our  friendship,  I persuaded  him  to  accept  one  of  the  finest  stones 
in  my  collection,  and  we  parted  with  mutual  assurances  of  good- 
will  and  not  without  hope  of  meeting-  ag"ain. 

T if.nathT’  °1  7nt  With  me-  Bm  YawI>  equally  of  course. 

e > tIbehm,d,  He  had  Slung  hls  hammock  in  the  Constellation’s 
to  castle,  and  became  captain  of  the  foretop. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

OLD  FRIENDS  AND  A NEW  FOE. 

1 made  up  my  mind  to  see  Carmen,  if  he  still  lived  ; and 

finding  at  Chagres  a schooner  bound  for  La  Guayra  I took  passages 
in  her  for  myself  and  Ramon,  all  the  more  willingly  as  the  captfin 
therTt  h°  PT  at.Cura5oa-  Tt  occurred  to  me  that  Van  Voorst, 

' wouSTe  amrcC?ant Wh°S,e  hands  1 had  left  six  hundred  P°unds> 

uld  be  a likely  man  to  advise  me  as  to  the  disposal  of  my  dia- 
monds—if  he  also  still  lived.  y 

find^hlheiV°  SUrprise’  for  Pe°Ple  die  fas‘  in  the  tropics,  I did 
find  the  old  gentleman  alive,  but  he  had  made  so  sure  of  my  death 

that  my  reappearance  almost  caused  his.  The  pipe  he  was  smokino- 
dropped  from  his  mouth,  and  he  sank  back  in  his  chair  with  an  ex* 
clamation  of  fear  and  dismay. 

in  the^esh6’^  **  Mynheer  Van  V°°rst,”  I said  ; “ I am 

“ I am  glad  to  see  you  in  the  flesh.  I don’t  believe  in  ghosts,  of 


2X2 


MR.  FORTE SCUE. 


course.  But  I happened  to  be  in  what  you  call  a brown  study,  and 
as  I had  heard  you  were  shot  long  ago  on  the  llanos  you  rather 
startled  me,  coming  in  so  quietly— that  rascally  boy  ought  to  have 
announced  you.  But  I was  not  afraid — not  in  the  least.  Why 
should  one  be  afraid  of  a ghost  ? And  I saw  at  a glance  that,  as 
you  say,  you  were  in  the  flesh.  I suppose  you  have  come  to  inquire 
about  your  money.  It  is  quite  safe,  my  dear  sir,  and  at  your  dis- 
posal, and  you  will  find  that  it  has  materially  increased.  I will  call 
for  the  ledger,  and  you  shall  see. 

The  ledger  was  brought  in  by  a business-looking  young  man, 
whom  the  old  merchant  introduced  to  me  as  his  nephew  and  part- 
ner, Mynheer  Bernhard  Van  Voorst. 

“This  is  Mr.  Fortescue,  Bernhard,”  he  said,  “the  English  gen- 
tleman who  was  dead — I mean  that  I thought  was  dead,  but  is 
alive — and  who  many  years  ago  left  in  my  hands  a sum  of  about 
two  thousand  piasters.  Turn  to  his  account  and  see  how  much 
there  is  now  to  his  credit  ? ” 

“ At  the  last  balance  the  amount  to  Mr.  Fortescue’s  credit  was 
six  thousand  two  hundred  piasters.”  * 

“You  see!  Did  I not  say  so?  Your  capital  has  more  than 

doubled.” 

“ More  than  doubled  ! How  so  ? ” 

“ We  have  credited  you  with  the  colonial  rate  of  interest— ten  per 
cent — as  was  only  right,  seeing  that  you  had  no  security,  and  we 
have  used  the  money  in  our  business ; and  mine  friend,  compound 
interest  at  ten  per  cent  is  a great  institution.  It  beats  gold-mining, 
and  is  almost  as  profitable  as  being  President  of  the  Republic  of 
Venezuela.  How  will  you  take  your  balance,  Mr.  Fortescue  ? W e 
will  have  the  account  made  up  to  date.  I can  give  you  half  the 
amount  in  hard  money — coin  is  not  too  plentiful  just  now  in  Curagoa, 
half  in  drafts  at  seven  days’  sight  on  the  house  of  Goldberg,  Van 
Voorst  & Company,  at  Amsterdam,  or  Spring  & Gerolstein,  at 
London.  They  are  a young  firm,  but  do  a safe  business  and  work 
with  a large  capital.” 

“ I am  greatly  obliged  to  you,  but  all  I require  at  present  is 
about  five  hundred  piasters,  in  hard  money.” 

“ Ah  then,  you  have  made  money  where  you  have  been  ? ob- 

* At  the  time  in  question,  “ piaster  ” was  a word  often  used  as  an  equivua- 
lent  for  “ dollar”  both  in  the  “ Gulf  ports”  and  the  West  Indies. 


OLD  FfclENDS  AND  A NEW  EOE 

Zl3 

spectacle'"  Van  V°0rSt’  6yeing  me  keenly  throu^h  his  ^ horn 

“Not  money,  but  money’s  worth,”  I replied,  for  I had  quite  de- 
, ,de,d  !°  ™ake  a ooohdant  of  the  honest  old  Dutchman,  whom  I 
iked  all  the  better  for  going  straight  to  the  point  without  asking 
too  many  questions.  asicing 

b'  ”'rch“di“-  - «-M»  is  money- 
“Yes,  it  is  merchandise.” 

°r0n  the  SPanish  M*n 

vou  a 1 Lral  reC61Ve  U fr0m  y0U  0n  comment  and  make 

nrints  Ire  agamst  bills  of  ladinS-  Hardware  and  cotton 

p its  are  in  great  demand  just  now,  and  if  it  is  anything  of  that 

sort  we  might  sell  it  to  arrive.”  S 

“ 11  is  nothing  of  that  sort,  Mr.  Van  Voorst.” 

“ More  portable,  perhaps  ? ” 

“Yes,  more  portable.” 

“ H y°n  could  show  me  a sample ” 

“ I can  show  you  the  bulk.” 

“You  have  got  it  in  the  schooner?” 

“ No,  I have  got  it  here.” 

“ Gold  dust  ? ” 

“Diamonds.  I found  them  in  the  Andes,  and  shall  be  glad  to 
have  your  advice  as  to  their  disposal.” 

**  Hiamonds  ! Ach  ! y°u  are  a happy  man.  If  you  would  like  to  ' 

The  t,me  hrmrsI,JCuan  PerhapS  g'Ve  y°U  SOme  idea  of  ^eir  value. 
The  house  of  Goldberg  and  Van  Voorst,  at  Amsterdam,  in  which 
I was  brought  up,  deal  largely  in  precious  stones.” 

she?1  Ih'l-  Undid  my  belt  and  poured  the  diamonds  on  a large 
sheet  of  whde  paper,  which  Mr.  Van  Voorst  spread  on  his  desk. 

the  d f t 1 GOtt!"  he  exdaimed  in  ecstacy,  glaring  at 

wkh  htTt  fi  °Ugh  tt  ^ glaSS6S  and  Pickin^  out^he  «nest 
r h h J-ff  fingerS’  Thls  is  the  finest  collection  of  rough  stones 
I ever  did  see.  They  are  worth-until  they  are  weighed  and  cut  it 
^ impossible  t°  say  how  much-but  at  least  a mill, on  dollars,  nrob- 
ably  two  millions.  You  found  them  in  the  Andes  ? You  could  not 
say  where,  could  you,  Mr.  Fortescue  ? ” 

I could,  but  I would  rather  not.” 

You  intend  T”  pardon’  1 shouId  have  known  better  than  to  ask. 

You  intend  to  go  there  again,  of  course  ? ” 


214 


' MR.  FORTESCUE. 


«Never!  It  would  be  at  the  risk  of  my  life— and  there  are 

^TherHs  no  need.  You  are  rich  already,  and  enough  is  as 
ortoci  as  a feast.  You  ask  my  advice  as  to  the  disposal  of  these 
ftones  Well,  my  advice  is  that  you  consign  them  through  us,  to 
the  house  of  Goldberg,  Van  Voorst  and  Company.  They  are  honest 
and  experienced.  They  will  get  them  cut  and  sell  them  for  you  at 
the  highest  price.  They  are,  moreover,  one  of  the  richest  houses  in 
Amsterdam,  trustworthy  without  limit.  What  do  you  say . 

“Yes  I will  act  on  your  advice,  and  consign  these  stones  to 
vour  friends  for  sale  at  Amsterdam,  or  elsewhere,  as  they  may  think 
best  And  be  good  enough  to  ask  them  to  advise  me  as  to  the  in- 

h— -T* fina”; 

cial  relations  with  every  monetary  center  in  Euiopc  t ie>  comm 
the  best  information.  And  now  we  must  count  and  weigh  these 
stones  carefully,  and  I shall  give  you  a receipt  in ^proper  form  ' h Y 
must  be  shipped  in  three  or  four  parcels  so  as  to  divide  the  ns  . 
and  I will  write  to  Goldberg  and  Van  Voorst  to  take  out  open 
policies  « by  ship  or  ships  -for  how  much  shall  we  say . 

“ That  I must  leave  to  you,  Mr.  Van  Voorst. 

« Then  I will  say  two  million  dollars— better  make  it  too  muc 
than  too  little — and  two  millions  may  not  be  too  much.  I do  not 
profess  to  be  an  expert,  and  as  likely  as  not,  my  estimate  is  very 

wide  of  the  mark.  . , , , 

After  the  diamonds  had  been  counted  and  weighed,  and  a re- 
ceipt written  out,  in  duplicate  and  in  two  languages,  I informed  Mr. 
Van  Voorst  of  my  intention  to  visit  Caracas  and  asked  whether 
things  were  pretty  quiet  there. 

« At  Caracas  itself,  yes.  But  in  the  intenor  they  are  fighting,  as 
usual.  The  curse  of  Spanish  rule  has  been  succeeded  by  the  stil 
greater  curse  of  chronic  revolution.” 

“But  foreigners  are  admitted,  I suppose?  I run  no  risk  of  being 

clapped  in  prison  as  I was  last  time  ? 

“Not  the  least.  You  can  go  and  come  as  you  please.  You 
don’t  even  require  a passport.  The  Spaniards,  who  were  once  so 
hated,  are  now  almost  popular.  I hear  that  several  Spanish  officers, 
who  served  in  the  royal  army  during  the  war,  are  now  at  Caracas, 
and  have  offered  their  swords  to  the  government  for  the  suppression 
of  the  present  rebellion.  Do  you  intend  to  stay  long  in  Venezuela  ? 


OLD  FRIENDS  AND  A NEW  FOE . 


21$ 

“ I think  not.  In  any  case  I shall  see  you  before  I leave  for 
Europe.  Much  depends  on  whether  I find  my  friend  Carmen 
alive.” 

“ Carmen,  Carmen ! I seem  to  know  the  name.  Is  he  a gen- 
eral?” 

“ Scarcely,  I should  think.  He  was  only  a teniente  of  guerillas 
when  we  parted  some  ten  years  ago.” 

“ They  are  all  generals  now,  my  dear  sir,  and  as  plentiful  as 
frogs  in  my  native  land.  If  you  are  ever  in  doubt  as  to  the  rank  of 
a Venezolano,  you  are  always  safe  in  addressing  him  as  a general. 
Yes,  I fancy  you  will  find  your  friend  alive.  At  any  rate,  there  is  a 
General  Carmen,  rather  a leading  man  among  the  Blues,  I think, 
and  sometimes  spoken  of  as  a probable  president.  You  will,  of 
course,  put  up  at  the  Hotel  ae  los  Generales.  Ah,  here  is  Bernhard 
with  the  five  hundred  dollars  in  hard  money,  for  which  you  asked. 
If  you  should  want  more,  draw  on  us  at  sight.  I will  give  you  a 
letter  of  introduction  to  the  house  of  Bliihm  and  Bluthner  at  Carac- 
as, who  will  be  glad  to  cash  your  drafts  at  the  current  rate  of  ex- 
change, and  to  whose  care  I will  address  any  letters  I may  have 
occasion  to  write  to  you.” 

This  concluded  my  business  with  Mr.  Van  Voorst,  and  three 
days  later  I was  once  more  in  Caracas.  I found  the  place  very  lit- 
tle altered,  less  than  I was  myself.  I had  entered  it  in  high  spirits 
full  of  hope,  eager  for  adventure,  and  intent  on  making  my  fortune. 
Now  my  heart  was  heavy  with  sorrow  and  bitter  with  disappoint- 
ment. Though  I had  made  my  fortune,  I had  lost,  as  I thought, 
both  the  buoyancy  of  youth  and  the  capacity  for  enjoyment,  and  I 
looked  forward  to  the  future  without  either  hope  or  desire. 

As  I rode  with  Ramon  into  the  patio  of  the  hotel,  where  I had 
been  arrested  by  the  alguazils  of  the  Spanish  governor,  a man 
came  forward  to  greet  me,  so  strikingly  like  the  ancient  posadero 
that  I felt  sure  he  was  the  latter  s son.  My  surmise  proved  correct, 
and  I afterward  heard,  not  without  a sense  of  satisfaction,  that  the 
father  was  hanged  by  the  patriots  when  they  recaptured  Caracas. 

After  I had  engaged  my  rooms  the  posadero  informed  me  (in 
answer  to  my  inquiry)  that  General  Salvador  Carmen  (this  could  be 
none  other  than  my  old  friend)  was  with  the  army  at  La  Victoria, 
but  that  he  had  a house  at  Caracas  where  his  wife  and  family  w^ere 
then  residing.  He  also  mentioned  incidentally  that  several  Spanish 
officers  of  distinction,  who  had  arrived  a few  days  previously,  were 


2l6 


MR.  FORTESCUE. 


staying  in  the  /W«-doubtless  the  same  spoken ' of  by  Van 

V0The  day  being  still  young,  for  I had  left  La  Guayra  betimes,  I 
thought  I could  not  do  better  than  call  on  Juanita,  who  lived  only  a 
stone's  throw  from  the  Hotel  de  los  Generales.  She  recognized  me 
at  once  and  received  me-almost  literally-with  open  arms.  When 
I essayed  to  kiss  her  hand,  she  offered  me  her  cheek. 

“After  this  long  time!  It  is  a miracle!  she  exclaime  . 

“ We  mourned  for  you  as  one  dead ; for  we  felt  sure  that  if  you 
were  living  we  should  have  had  news  of  you.  How  glad  Salvador 
will  be  1 Where  have  you  been  all  this  time,  and  why,  oh  why,  did 

YOU  not  write  ? ” , T A * 

“ I have  been  in  the  heart  of  the  Andes,  and  I did  not  write  be- 
cause I was  as  much  cut  off  from  the  world  as  if  I had  been  in  an- 

“ You  must  have  a long  story  to  tell  us,  then.  But  I am  for- 
getting the  most  important  question  of  all.  Are  you  still  a bache- 

l0r’“  Worse  than  that,  Juanita.  I am  a widower.  I have  lost  the 

sweetest  wife—”  - . 

“ Misericordia ! Misericordia ! Pobre  amigo  into  O, 
how  sorry  I am ; how  much  I pity  you  ! ” And  the  dear  lady,  now 
a stately  and  handsome  matron,  fell  a- weeping  out  01  pure  tender- 
ness and  I had  to  tell  her  the  sad  story  of  the  quenching  of  Quipai 
and  Angela’s  death.  But  the  telling  of  it,  together  with  Juanita  s 
sympathy  did  me  good,  and  I went  away  in  much  better  spirit 
33  hid  come,  lalvador,  she  said  would  be  back  in  a few  days, 
and" she  much  regretted  not  being  able  to  offer  me  quarters  ; . was 
“ntS^Tt  custom  of  the  place  and  Spanish  for  lad,, s 

to  entertain  gentlemen  visitors  during  their  husbands  absui  . 

X T=Sng  Juanita  I walked  round  b,  the  guard-house  m 

whi"“  had  been  imprisoned,  »d  •>™”dh  *« 

and  1 had  hidden  when  we  were  maktng  our  escap  . Thy  g 
nested  some  stirring  memories— Carera  (who,  as  I learned  irom 
Juanita,  had  been  dead  several  years)  and  his  chivalrous  friendship 
Salvador  and  his  reckless  courage;  our  midnight  ride  Gahr^  ^ 

the  bivouac  by  the  mountain-tarn  (poor  Gahra,  what  had 
SX - * guerillas ; Griscelli  and  his  blood-h.un^w 
I hated  that  man,  but  surely  by  this  time  he  had  got  '«»’  > • 
Gondocori  and  Queen  Mamcuna;  the  man-killer;  and  Qu.pan 


2I7 


OLD  FRIENDS  AND  A NEJV  FOE. 


My  mind  was  still  busied  with  these  memories  when  I reached 
the  hotel.  There  seemed  to  be  much  more  going  on  than  there  had 
been  earlier  in  the  day  horsemen  were  coming  and  going,  sen-ants 
hurrying  to  and  fro,  people  promenading  on  the  patio,  a group  of 
uniformed  officers  deep  in  conversation.  One  of  them,  a tall,  rather 
stout  man,  with  grizzled  hair,  a pair  of  big  epaulettes,  and  a coat 
covered  with  gold  lace,  had  his  back  toward  me,  and  as  my  eye 
fell  on  his  sword-hilt  it  struck  me  that  I had  seen  something  like 
it  before.  I was  trying  to  think  where,  when  the  owner°of  it 
turned  suddenly  round,  and  I found  myself  face  to  face  with— Gris- 
CELLI ! ! 


For  some  seconds  we  stared  at  each  other  in  blank  amaze- 
ment. I could  see  that  though  he  recognized  me,  he  was  trying 
to  make  believe  that  he  did  not;  or,  perhaps,  he  really  doubted 
whether  I was  the  man  I seemed. 

“ That  is  my  sword,”  I said,  pointing  to  the  weapon  by  his  side, 
which  had  been  given  to  me  by  Carera. 

“Your  sword  ! What  do  you  mean  ? ” 

“You  took  it  from  me  eleven  years  ago,  when  I fell  into  vour 
hands  at  San  Felipe,  and  you  hunted  my  friend  Carmen  and  myself 
with  bloodhounds.”  , y 

“ What  folly  is  this  ? Hunted  you  with  bloodhounds,  forsooth  ! 
W hy  this  is  the  first  time  I ever  set  eyes  on  you.— The  man  is  mad 
— or  drunk  (addressing  his  friends). 

“You  lie,  Griscelli ; and  you  are  not  a liar  merely,  but  a mur- 
derer  and  a coward.” 

, “\P°ri  fZc0S’ ,y°U  Sha11  pay  for  this  insult  with  your  heart's  blood  ' ” 
he  shouted,  furiously,  half  drawing  his  sword. 

bold  v likC  y°U  draW  °n  3n  unarmed  man.”  I said,  laying 
hold  of  his  wnst.  “ Give  me  a sword,  and  you  shall  make  me  pay 

or  the  insult  with  my  blood-if  you  can.  Senores  ” (by  this  time  all 
the  people  m the  patto  had  gathered  round  us),  “Senores,  are  there 
here  any  Venezuelan  caballeros  who  will  bear  me  out  in  this  quar- 
rel lam  an  Englishman,  by  name  Fortescue;  eleven  years  ago 
while  serving  under  General  Mejia  on  the  patriot  side,  I fell  into 
he  hands  of  General  Griscelli,  who  deprived  me  of  the  sword  he 
now  wears,  which  I received  as  a present  from  Senor  Carera,  whose 
name  you  may  remember.  Then,  after  deceiving  us  with  false 

General  Cafmen  and  niyself — he  hunted  us 
with  his  bloodhounds,  and  we  escaped  as  by  a miracle.  Now  he 


2l8 


MR.  FORTE SCUE. 


protests  that  he  never  saw  me  before.  What  say  you,  senores,  am 
I not  right  in  stigmatizing  him  as  a murderer  and  liar . 

“ Quite  right ! ” said  a middle-aged,  soldierly-looking  man.  “ I 
also  served  in  the  war  of  liberation,  and  remember  Gnscehi  s 
name  well.  It  would  serve  him  right  to  poniard  him  on  the 

« n0)  n0.  I want  no  murder.  I demand  only  satisfaction. 

“And  he  shall  give  it  you  or  take  the  consequences.  I will 
gladly  act  as  one  witness,  and  I am  sure  my  friend  here,  Senor  Don 
Luis  de  Medina,  who  is  also  a veteran  of  the  war,  will  act  as  the 

other.  Will  you  fight,  Griscelli?” 

« Certainly — provided  that  we  fight  at  once,  and  to  the  death. 
You  can  arrange  the  details  with  my  friends  here. 

“ Be  it  so.”  I said,  “ A la  muerte!' 

“To  the  death!  To  the  death!”  shouted  the  crowd,  whose  native 
ferocity  was  now  thoroughly  roused. 

After  a short  conference  and  a reference  to  Gnscelh  and  myself, 
the  seconds  announced  that  we  were  to  fight  with  swords^  in  benor 
de  Medina’s  garden,  whither  we  straightway  wended,  for  tnere  were 
no  police  to  meddle  with  us,  and  at  that  time  duels  a la  muerte 
were  of  daily  occurrence  in  the  city  of  Caracas.  When  we  arrived 
at  the  garden,  which  was  only  a stone’s-throw  walk  from  th vfiosada 
Senor  de  Medina  produced  two  swords  with  cutting  edges,  and 
blades  five  feet  long;  for  we  were  to  fight  in  Spanish  fashion,  and 
Spanish  duelists  both  cut  and  thrust,  and,  when  occasion  serves, 

use  the  left  hand  as  a help  in  parrying. 

Then  the  spectators,  of  whom  there  were  fully  two  score,  made 
a ring,  and  Griscelli  and  I (having  meanwhile  doffed  our  hats,  coats 

and  shirts),  stepped  into  the  arena.  r . 

I had  not  handled  a sword  for  years,  and  for  aught  I knew  Gris- 
celli mi°bt  he  a consummate  swordsman  and  in  daily  practice.  ji 
the  other  hand,  he  was  too  stout  to  be  in  first-rate  condition,  and, 
besides  being  younger,  I had  slightly  the  advantage  in  length  of  arm. 

When  the  word  was  given  to  begin,  he  opened  tne  attack  with 
great  energy  and  resolution,  and  was  obviously  intent  on  killing  me 
ff  he  could.  For  a minute  or  two  it  was  all  I could  do  to  hold  my 
own ; and  partly  to  test  his  strength  and  skill,  partly  to  get  my  han 
in,  I stood  purposely  on  the  defensive. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  bout  neither  of  us  had  received  a scratch, 
but  Griscelli  showed  signs  of  fatigue  while  I was  quite  fresh.  Also 


OLD  FRIENDS  AND  A NEW  FOE . 

219 

he  was  very  angry  and  excited,  and  when  we  resumed  he  came  at 
me  with  than  his  former  impetuosity,  as  if  he  meant  to  bear 
me  down  by  the  sheer  weight  and  rapidity  of  his  strokes.  His  favor- 
ite  attacl^was  a cut  aimed  at  my  head.  Six  several  times  he  re 

SulfgitrTfflrd6’  1 St°PPed  the  Str°ke  With  the 

usual  guard  Baffled  and  furious,  he  tried  it  again,  but-probablv 
because  of  failing  strength-less  swiftly  and  adroitly.  My  oppo 
tumty  had  come  Quick  as  thought  I ran  under  his  guard  and 
>rm  hand,  passed'my  sword 

Then  there  were  cries  of  bravo,  for  the  popular  feeling  was  on 

BuVl  i“lfttTy-SeC°nidS  C°ngratUlated  me  warmly  on  my  victory. 

I said  little  in  reply,  my  attention  being  attracted  by  a young 

man  who  was  kneeling  beside  Griscelli's  body  and,  as  it  m ght  seem 
saying  a silent  prayer.  When  he  had  done  he  rose  to  his  feet  a!5 
as  I looked  on  his  face  I saw  he  was  the  dead  man’s  son. 

“ Sir,  you  have  killed  my  father,  and  I shall  kill  you,”  he  said  in 
a calm  voice,  but  with  intense  passion.  “ Yes,  I shall  kill  you,  and 
if  I fail  my  cousins  will  kill  you.  If  you  escape  us  all,  then  we  will 
charge  our  children  to  avenge  the  death  of  the  man  you  have  this 
day  slain.  We  are  Corsicans,  and  we  never  forgive.  I know  your 
name ; mine  is  Giuseppe  Griscelli.” 

“You  are  distraught  with  grief,  and  know  not  what  you  say,”  I 
said  as  kindly  as  I could,  for  I pitied  the  lad.  “But  let  not  your 

g"ef  ™akeLy0U  unJust-  Your  father  died  in  fair  fight.  If  I had  not 
killed  him  he  would  have  killed  me,  and  years  ago  he  tried  to  hunt 
me  to  death  for  his  amusement.” 

“ And  I and  mine— we  will  hunt  you  to  death  for  our  revenge 
Or  will  you  fight  now?  I am  ready.”  g ' 

you“„No’  1 have  no  quarrel  with  you,  and  I should  be  soriy  to  hurt 

Go  your  way,  then,  but  remember — ” 

“ Come  in ^ ,eaVI  h‘m:  th<:  S6ems  baif-crazed,”  interposed  Medina. 
Come  into  my  house  while  my  slaves  remove  the  body.” 


220 


MR.  FORTESCUE. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

A NOVEL  WAGER. 

three  days  afterward  Carmen,  apprised  by  his  wife  of  my  ar- 

rivaWetunredto  Caracas,  and  1 became  their  goes,,  greatly  to  my 

. . f ,ue  duel  with  Griscelli,  besides  making  me  tempo 

rarilffamous,  had  brought  me  so  many  friends  and  invitations 

^ 1 eXPr6Std  ltd 

that  Griscelli  should  have  dared  to  return  to  a country  where  he  h d 

.forgotten  in  ten  years,  was  the  ^swen  last  president 

qunnose  he  would  have  come  back  if  Olivare  F 

and^  Yellow-had  not  made  it  known  that  he  won  d bestow  com- 
Stins  on  Spanish  officers  of  distinction  and  give  «b.m command 
in  the  national  army.  It  was  a most  absurd  proceeding.  But  we 
shot  Olivarez  three  months  ago,  and  I will  see  that  these  Spanish 
interlopers  are  sent  out  of  the  country  forthwith,  that  young  spark 

who  threatens  to  murder  you,  included.” 

“ Let  him  stay  if  he  likes.  I doubt  whether  he  meant  what  he 

SalC“  I have  no  doubt  of  it,  whatever,  amigo  mio , and  he  shall  go. 
If  he  stayed  in  the  country  I could  not  answer  for  your  safety ■;  and 
if  you  come  across  any  of  the  Griscellis  in  Europe,  take  my  advice 
and  be  as  watchful  as  if  you  were  crossing  a river  infested  with 

Carmen  was  much  discouraged  by  the  state  of  the  republic,  as 
well  he  might  be.  By  turning  out  the  Spaniards  the  former  colonies 
had  merely  exchanged  despotism  for  anarchy;  instead  °f 

beaten  with  whips  they  were  beaten  with  scorpions.  But  though 

discouraged  Carmen  was  not  dismayed.  He  belonged  to  the  Blues 
who  being  in  power,  regarded  their  opponents  the  Yd  ows  as 
rebels  - and  he  was  confident  that  the  triumph  of  his  party  would 
insure  the  tranquillity  of  the  country.  As  he  wascarefultoexpiam 
to  me  he  was  a Blue  because  he  was  a patnot,  and  he  pressed  _ 
so  warmly  to  return  with  him  to  La  Victoria,  accept  a command  i 
his  army,  and  aid  in  the  suppression  of  the  insurrection,  that  I encU 
by  consenting. 


A NOVEL  WAGER. 


22 1 

At  Carmen  s instance,  the  president  gave  me  the  command  of  a 
brigade  and  would  have  raised  me  to  the  rank  of  general.  But  when 
I found  that  there  were  about  three  generals  for  every  colonel  I 
chose  the  nominally  inferior  but  actually  more  distinguished  grade. 

I remained  in  Venezuela  two  years,  campaigning  nearly  all  the 
time.  But  it  was  an  ignoble  warfare,  cruel  and  ruthless,  and  had  I 
not  given  my  word  to  Carmen,  to  stand  by  him  until  the  country 
was  pacified,  I should  have  resigned  my  commission  much  sooner 
than  I did.  Ramon,  who  acted  as  one  of  my  orderlies,  bore  himself 
bravely  and  was  several  times  wounded. 

In  the  mean  while  I received  several  communications  from  Van 
Voorst,  and  made  two  visits  to  Cura?oa.  The  cutting  and  disposal 
of  my  diamonds  being  naturally  rather  a long  business,  it  was  nearly 
two  years  after  I had  shipped  them  to  Holland  before  I learned  the 
result  of  my  venture. 

After  all  expenses  were  paid  they  brought  me  nearly  three  hun- 
dred thousand  pounds,  which  account  Goldberg,  Van  Voorst  and 
Company  “ held  at  my  disposal.” 

It  was  to  arrange  and  advise  with  the  Amsterdam  people,  as  to 
the  investment  of  this  great  fortune,  that  I went  to  Europe.  But  I 
did  not  depart  until  my  promise  was  fulfilled.  I left  Venezuela 
pacified  from  exhaustion-and  Carmen  in  somewhat  better  spirits 
than  I had  found  him. 

His  last  words  were  a warning,  which  I have  had  freauent  occa- 
sion to  remember:  "Beware  of  the  Griscellis." 

I sailed  from  Cura?oa  (Ramon,  of  course,  accompanying  me)  in 
a Dutch  ship,  bound  for  Rotterdam,  whither  I arrived  in  due  course 
and  proceeding  thence  to  Amsterdam,  introduced  myself  to  Gold- 
berg, Van  Voorst  & Company.  . They  were  a weighty  and  re- 
spectable firm  in  every  sense  of  the  term,  and  received  me  with  a 
ponderous  gravity  befitting  the  occasion. 

Though  extremely  courteous  in  their  old-fashioned  way,  they 
neither  wasted  words  nor  asked  unnecessary  questions.  But  they 
made  me  a momentous  proposal-no  less  than  to  become  their  part- 
ner. They  had  an  ample  capital  for  their  original  trade  of  diamond 
merchants ; but  having  recently  become  contractors  for  government 
loans,  they  had  opportunities  of  turning  my  fortune  to  much  better 
account  than  investing  it  in  ordinary  securities.  Goldberg  & Com- 
pany did  not  make  it  a condition  that  I should  take  an  active  part  in 
he  business,  that  would  be  just  as  I pleased.  After  being  fully  en- 


MR.  FORTE  SCUM. 


222 

lightened  as  to  the  nature  of  their  transactions,  and  looking  at  their 
latest  balance-sheets,  I closed  with  the  offer,  and  I have  never  had 
occasion  to  regret  my  decision.  We  opened  branch  houses  in  Lon- 
don and  Paris ; the  firm  is  now  one  of  the  largest  of  its  kind  in 
Europe  ; we  reckon  our  capital  by  millions,  and,  as  I have  lived  long, 
and  had  no  children  to  provide  for,  the  amount  standing  to  my  credit 
exceeds  that  of  all  the  other  partners  put  together,  and  yields  me  a 
princely  income. 

But  I could  not  settle  down  to  the  monotonous  career  of  a mer- 
chant, and  though  I have  always  taken  an  interest  in  the  business  of 
the  house,  and  on  several  important  occasions  acted  as  its  special 
agent  in  the  greater  capitals;  my  life  since  that  time — a period  of 
nearly  fifty  years— has  been  spent  mainly  in  foreign  travel  and  sci- 
entific study.  I have  revisited  South  America  and  recrossed  the 
Andes,  ridden  on  horseback  from  Vera  Cruz  to  San  Francisco,  and 
from  San  Francisco  to  the  headwaters  of  the  Mississippi  and  the 
Missouri.  I served  in  the  war  between  Belgium  and  Holland,  went 
through  the  Mexican  campaign  of  1846,  fought  with  Sam  Houston 
at  the  battle  of  San  Jacinto,  and  was  present,  as  a spectator,  at  the 
fall  of  Sebastopol  and  the  capture  of  Delhi.  In  the  course  of  my 
wanderings  I have  encountered  many  moving  accidents  by  flood  and 
field.  Once  I was  captured  by  Greek  brigands,  after  a clespe.ae 
fiMit,  in  which  both  Ramon  and  myself  were  wounded,  and  had  to 
pay  four  thousand  pounds  for  my  ransom  For  the  '“ttweny 
yelrs,  however,  I have  avoided  serious  risks,  done  no  avoidab : fight- 
ing, and  traveled  only  in  beaten  tracks;  and,  unless  I am  killed  by 
one  of  the  Griscelli,  I dare  say  I shall  live  twenty  years 
While  studying  therapeutics  and  patho  ogy 
Giessler  of  Zurich,  shortly  after  my  return  to  Europe  I too*  up  the 
subject  ’of  longevity,  as  to  which  Giessler  had  coveted .much ^curious 
information,  and  formed  certain  theories  one  bemg  hat  peop  e o^ 
sound  constitution  and  strong  vitality,  with  no 

sition  to  disease  may,  by  observing  a correct  regimen  £ 

be  a hundred,  preserving  until  that  age  their  acu  ^ j 

tact— in  other  words,  only  begin  to  be  old  at  a hundre  . 
agreed  with  him,  but  as  to  what  constituted  a 1“  correc * 
we  differed.  He  held  that  the  life  most  conducive  to  length  ot 

years  was  that  of  the  scholar-his  own,  in  to 

reflective,  and  sedentary.  I,  on  the  other  hand,  thought  that  the 
man  who  passed  much  of  his  time  in  the  open  air,  moving  about 


A NOVEL  WAGER. 


223 


and  using  his  limbs,  would  live  the  longer— other  things  being- 
equal  and  assuming  that  both  observed  the  accepted  rules  of  health. 

Ine  result  of  our  discussion  was  a friendly  wager  “You  trv 
your  way;  I will  try  mine,”  said  Giessler,  “and  we  will  see  who 
ives  the  longer— at  any  rate,  the  survivor  will.  The  survivor  must 
also  publish  an  account  of  his  system, pour  encourageur  les  autres.” 
As  we  were  of  the  same  age,  equally  sound  in  constitution  and 
strong  in  physique,  and  not  greatly  dissimilar  in  temperament,  1 ac- 
cepted the  challenge.  The  competition  is  still  going  on.  Every 
New-year’s-day  we  write  each  other  a letter,  always  in  the  same 
words,  which  both  answers  and  asks  the  same  questions:  “Still 
a ive . If  either  fails  to  receive  his  letter  at  the  specified  time  he 
wi  presume  that  the  other  is  hors  de  combat,  if  not  dead,  and  make 
further  inquiry.  But  I think  I shall  win.  Three  years  ago  Imet 

2^1'VV  ""'T*0'  ""  Brt,ish  Action’ and.  tLgh  te 

demed  ,t.  he  was  palpably  aging.  His  shoulders  were  bem  his 

u,S3.”hii:Tit  “"S"' 

i.  o^sr^r  rbrsrrT*  * 

occasion,  when  opportunity  offered,  to  observe  the  h,bi”of  tribes 

this^™X“Vcrn'0"S"*y;  uNO"'  "°re  ”“*»>><«  i» 

that  ihe^dVr^ly^hv^ong^thounh^erhaps^ot'so^!5^'3^^  n’i'se^ 
them  say.  Now,  these  pe^pie  a«  ^ 

unddie  age  make  a practice  of  drinking  a decoction  which  as  S 
believe,  has  the  power  of  prolonging  life.  I brought  with  me  to 

th-  other  The  „„  1 • ’ analyzed  the  one  and  cultivated 

th-  other  The  conclusion  at  which  I arrived  was,  that  the  plant  in 
question  did  actually  possess  the  property  of  retaking  that  ^en 

tude  of  XgT63  ^hiChtm°re  than  anythin^  e^e  causes  the  decrepi- 

years  pas?  ThJtT  7 " alka,°id  °f  which'  for  thirty 

daily.  You  see  the  result  miSa°  Utl0n)  apmuch-diIuted  dose  almost 
and  h ^ t*Q  th  . * * a so  £Ive  Ramon  an  occasional  dose 

and  he  1S  the  t vlgorous  man  Qf  hjs  ^ j ^ f ^ 

take'it  He  nmf6  '!  W“  ^ Cmpirical  remedy>  and  declined  to 
take  it.  He  preferred  electric  baths.  I take  my  electric  baths  hv 

horseback  exercise,  and  riding  to  hounds  by 

Yes,  I believe  I shall  finish  my  centuiy-without  becoming  se- 


Mk.  PORTE  SCUM. 


224 

nile  either  in  body  or  mind — if  I can  escape  the  Griscelli.  I was  ill 
hopes  that  I had  escaped  them  by  coming  here ; but  I never  stay 
long  in  Europe  that  they  don’t  sooner  or  later  find  me  out.  I think 
I shall  have  to  spend  the  remainder  of  my  life  in  America  or  the 
East.  The  consciousness  of  being  continually  hunted,  that  at  any 
moment  I may  be  confronted  with  a murderer  and  perchance  be 
murdered,  is  too  trying  for  a man  of  my  age.  To  tell  the  truth,  I 
am  beginning  to  feel  that  I have  nerves ; though  my  elixir  delays 
death,  it  does  not  insure  perpetual  youth ; and  propitiating  these 
people  is  out  of  the  question — I have  tried  it. 

Three  years  after  my  return  from  Venezuela,  Giuseppe,  son  of 
the  man  whom  I killed  at  Caracas,  tried  to  kill  me  at  Amsterdam, 
fired  at  me  point-blank  with  a dueling-pistol,  and  so  nearly  suc- 
ceeded that  the  bullet  grazed  my  cheek  and  cut  a piece  out  of  my 
ear.  Yet  I not  only  pardoned  him,  but  bribed  the  police  to  let  him 
go,  and  gave  him  money.  Well,  seven  years  later  he  repeated  the 
attempt  at  Naples,  waylaid  me  at  night  and  attacked  me  with  a 
dagger,  but  I also  happened  to  be  armed,  and  Guiseppi  Griscelli 
died. 

At  Paris,  too— indeed,  while  the  empire  lasted— I found  it  expedi- 
ent to  shun  France  altogether.  At  that  time  Corsicans  were  greatly 
in  favor ; several  members  of  the  Griscelli  family  belonged  to  the 
secret  police  and  had  great  influence,  and  as  I never  took  an  alias 
and  my  name  is  not  common,  I was  tracked  like  a criminal.  Once 
I had  to  leave  Paris  by  stealth  at  dead  of  night ; another  time  I 
saved  my  life  by  simulating  death.  But  why  recount  all  the  at- 
tempts on  my  life?  Another  time,  perhaps.  The  subject  is  not  a 
pleasant  one,  but  this  I will  say : I never  spared  a Griscelli  that  I 
had  not  cause  to  regret  my  clemency.  The  last  I spared  was  the 
young  man  who  tried  to  murder  me  down  in  the  wood  there  ; and  if 
he  does  not  repay  my  forbearance  by  repeating  the  attempt,  he  will 
be  false  to  the  traditions  of  his  race. 


' ( EPILOGUE , 


22J’ 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

EPILOGUE. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  observe  that  the  deciphering  of  Mr. 
Fortescue  s notes  and  the  writing  of  his  memoirs  were  not  done  in 
a day.  There  were  gaps  to  be  filled  up,  obscure  passages  to  be 
elucidated,  and  parts  of  several  chapters  and  the  whole  of  the  last 
were  written  to  his  dictation,  so  that  the  summer  came  and  went, 
and  another  hunting-season  was  “ in  view,”  before  my  work,  in  its 
present  shape,  was  completed.  I would  fain  have  made  it  more 
complete  by  giving  a fuller  account  of  Mr.  Fortescue’s  adventures 
(some  of  which  must  have  been  very  remarkable)  between  his  first 
return  from  South  America  and  his  appearance  at  Matching  Green, 
and  I should  doubtless  have  been  able  to  do  so  (for  he  had  prom- 
ised to  continue  and  amplify  his  narrative  during  the  winter,  as  also 
to  give  me  the  recipe  of  his  elixir),  had  not  our  intercourse  been 
abruptly  terminated  by  one  of  the  strangest  events  in  my  experience 
and,  I should  think,  in  his. 

But,  before  going  further,  I would  just  observe  that  Mr  Fortes- 
cue’s cynicism,  which,  when  I first  knew  him,  had  rather  repelled 
me,  was  only  skin-deep.  Though  he  held  human  life  rather  cheaper 
than  I quite  liked,  he  was  a kind  and  liberal  master  and  a generous 
giver.  His  largesses  were  often  princely  and  invariably  anonymous, 
for  he  detested  everything  that  savored  of  ostentation  and  parade. 
On  the  other  hand,  he  had  no  more  tolerance  for  mendicants  in 
broadcloth  than  for  beggars  in  rags,  and  to  those  who  asked  he 
gave  nothing.  As  an  instance  of  his  dislike  of  publicity,  I may  men- 
tion  that  I had  been  with  him  several  months  before  I discovered 
that  he  had  published,  under  a pseudonym,  several  scientific  works 
which  had  he  acknowledged  them,  would  have  made  him  famous. 

After  Giuseppe  Griscelli’s  attempt  on  his  life,  I prevailed  on  Mr. 
ortescue  never  to  go  outside  the  park-gates  unaccompanied  ; when 
he  went  to  town,  or  to  Amsterdam,  Ramon  always  went  with  him, 
and  both  were  armed.  I also  gave  strict  orders  to  the  lodge-keep- 
ers to  admit  no  strangers  without  authority,  and  to  give  me  imme- 
late  information  as  to  any  suspicious-looking  characters  whom 
they  might  see  loitering  about. 

These  precautions,  I thought,  would  be  quite  sufficient  to  pre- 
vent any  attack  being  made  on  Mr.  Fortescue  in  the  daytime.  It 


226 


MR.  FORTESCUE. 


was  less  easy  to  guard  against  a surprise  during  the  night,  for  the 
park-palings  were  not  so  high  as  to  be  unclimbable ; and  the  idea  of 
a night-watchman  was  suggested  only  to  be  dismissed,  for  the  very 
sufficient  reason  that  when  he  was  most  wanted  he  would  almost 
certainly  be  asleep.  I had  no  fear  of  Griscelli  breaking  in  at  the 
front  door ; but  the  house  was  not  burglar-proof,  and,  as  it  hap- 
pened, the  weak  point  in  our  defense  was  one  of  the  windows  of 
Mr.  Fortescue’s  bedroom.  It  looked  into  the  orchard,  and,  by 
climbing  a tree  which  grew  hard  by,  an  active  man  could  easily 
reach  it,  even  without  a ladder.  The  danger  was  all  the  greater, 
as,  when  the  weather  was  mild,  Mr.  Fortescue  always  slept  with  the 
window  open.  I proposed  iron  bars,  to  which  he  objected  that  iron 
bars  would  make  his  room  look  like  a prison.  And  then  I had  a 
happy  thought. 

“ Let  us  fix  a strong  brass  rod  right  across  the  window-frame,” 
I said,  “ in  such  a way  that  nobody  can  get  in  without  laying  hold  of 
it,  and,  by  connecting  it  with  a strong  dynamo-battery  inside,  make 
sure  that  the  man  who  does  lay  hold  of  it  will  not  be  able  to  let  go.” 
The  idea  pleased  Mr.  Fortescue,  and  he  told  me  to  carry  it  out, 
which  I did  promptly  and  effectively,  taking  care  to  make  the  bat- 
tery so  powerful  that,  if  Mr.  Griscelli  should  try  to  effect  an  entrance 
by  the  window,  he  would  be  disagreeably  surprised.  The  circuit 
was,  of  course,  broken  by  dividing  the  rod  in  two  parts  and  inter- 
posing a non-conductor  between  them. 

To  prevent  any  of  the  maids  being  “ shocked,”  I told  Ramon 
(who  acted  as  his  master’s  body-servant)  to  connect  the  battery 
every  night  and  disconnect  it  every  morning.  From  time  to  time, 
moreover,  I overhauled  the  apparatus  to  see  that  it  was  in  good 
working  order,  and  kept  up  its  strength  by  occasionally  recharging 
the  cells. 

Once,  when  I was  doing  this,  Mr.  Fortescue  said,  laughingly : “ I 
don’t  think  it  is  of  any  use,  Bacon  ; Griscelli  won’t  come  in  that 
way.  If,  as  some  people  say,  it  is  the  unexpected  that  happens,  it 
is  the  expected  that  does  not  happen.” 

But  in  this  instance  both  happened — the  expected  and  the  un- 
expected. 

As  I mentioned  at  the  outset  of  my  story,  the  habits  of  the 
Kingscote  household  were  of  an  exemplary  regularity.  Mr.  Fortes- 
cne,  who  rose  early,  expected  everybody  else  to  follow  his  example 
in  this  respect,  and,  as  a rule,  everybody  did  so. 


EPILOGUE . 


227 


One  m°rnmg,  at  the  beginning  of  October,  when  the  sun  rose 
bout  six  o clock,  and  we^rose  with  it,  I got  up,  donned  my  dress 
ng-gown  and  went,  as  usual,  to  take  ray  matutinal  bath.  In  order 
to  reach  the  bath-room  I had  to  pass  Mr  V ° 
do»t.  As.  neared  it  , heard  ST*™ 

and  dismay,  in  a voice  which  I recognized  tK  • ,of  horror 
Thinking  that  something  was  wrong,  that  Mr  Forte*  °f, R,am0n' 

* 1 PUSh6d  ^ ^ ^orTnd^ted 

at  start,ed  r 

and  dismayed.  d °f  the  room’  a?hast 

thetlT/!  ^ mJghtu  f°r  th6re  hun^  at  the  ™dowa  man-or 
a °ne  ^1S  ^anc^s  convulsively  grasping  the  magnetized 

rod,  .he  distorted  (ace  pressed  .rains,’  the  glaj,  ,heT5-S 

nCdTl  f01?'1’  VaW  dr°°pinff-  In  that  g^stly  visage  I recog- 
mzed  the  features  of  Giuseppe  Griscelli  l ^ 

“ Is  he  dead,  doctor?  ” asked  Mr.  Fortescue. 

corps'  haS  been  dCad  S6Veral  h°UrS’”  1 Said>  aS  1 exaroined 

“So  much  the  better;  the  brood  is  one  the  less,  and  perhaps 

af  the??  7 T11  l6t  me  liVe  ^ PeaC6'  They  mUSt  see  that  so  far 
as  their  attempts  against  it  are  concerned,  I bear  a charmed  life 

Jo?  debtor/’1'  * ***  D°C‘°r  BaC°n’  and  1 hold  ^ 

Ramon  and  I disconnected  the  battery  and  dragged  the  bodv 
into  the  room.  We  found  in  the  pockets  a butcher’s  knife  and  a 
revolver,  and  round  the  waist  a rope,  with  which  the  would-be 
urderer  had  doubtless  intended  to  descend  from  the  window  after 
accomplishing  his  purpose. 

coteTandinindiehnt’  °f  C°Urse’ Caused  a &reat  sensation  both  at  Kings- 
cote  and  m the  country-side,  and,  equally  of  course,  there  was  an 

inquest,  at  which  Mr.  Fortescue,  Ramon,  and  myself  were the  o.^ 
witnesses.  As  Mr.  Fortescue  did  not  want  it  to  be  known  that  he 

sei??  h,CsTfF°f  *ZendMa:  and  detested  ‘he  idea  of  having  him- 
self and  his  affairs  discussed  by  the  press,  we  were  careful  not  to 

gainsay  the  popular  belief  that  Griscelli  was  neither  more  nor  les^ 
an  a dangerous  and  resolute  burglar,  and,  as  his  possession  of 
e weapons  proved,  a potential  murderer.  As  for  the  cause  of 
d*ath  I said,  as  I then  fully  believed  (though  I have  since  had  oc 


2 28 


MR.  FORTESCUE. 


casion  to  modify  this  opinion  somewhat),  that  the  battery  was  not 
strong  enough  to  kill  a healthy  man,  and,  that  Griscelli  had  died  of 
nervous  shock  and  fear  acting  on  a weak  heart.  In  this  view  the 
jury  concurred  and  returned  a verdict  of  accidental  death,  with  the 
(informal)  rider  that  it  “ served  him  right.”  The  chairman,  a burly 
farmer,  warmly  congratulated  me  on  my  ingenuity,  and  regretted 
that  he  had  not  “ one  of  them  things  ” at  every  window  in  his 
house. 

So  far  so  good ; but,  unfortunately,  a London  paper,  which  lived 
on  sensation,  and  happened  at  the  moment  to  be  in  want  of  a new 
one,  took  the  matter  up.  One  of  the  editor’s  jackals  came  down  to 
Kingscote,  and  there  and  elsewhere  picked  up  a few  facts  concern- 
ing Mr.  Fortescue’s  antecedents  and  habits,  which  he  served  up  to 
his  readers  in  a highly  spiced  and  amazingly  mendacious  article,  en- 
titled “ Old  Fortescue  and  his  Strange  Fortunes.”  But  the  sting  of 
the  article  was  in  its  tail.  The  writer  threw  doubt  on  the  justice  of 
the  verdict.  It  remained  to  be  proved,  he  said,  that  Griscelli  was  a 
burglar,  and  his  death  accidental.  And  even  burglars  had  their 
rights.  The  law  assumed  them  to  be  innocent  until  they  were 
proved  to  be  guilty,  and  it  could  be  permitted  neither  to  Mr.  Fortes- 
cue nor  to  any  other  man  to  take  people’s  lives,  merely  because  he 
suspected  them  of  an  intention  to  come  in  by  the  window  instead 
of  the  door.  By  what  right,  he  asked,  did  Mr.  Fortescue  place  on 
his  windows  an  appliance  as  dangerous  as  forked  lightning,  and  as 
deadly  as  dynamite  ? What  was  the  difference  between  magnetized 
bars  in  a window  and  spring-guns  on  a game-preserve  ? In  conclu- 
sion, the  writer  demanded  a searching  investigation  into  the  circum- 
stances attending  Giuseppe  Griscelli’s  death,  likewise  the  immedi- 
ate passing  of  an  act  of  Parliament  forbidding,  under  heavy  penal- 
ties, the  use  of  magnetic  batteries  as  a defense  against  supposed 
burglars. 

This  effusion  (which  he  read  in  a marked  copy  of  the  paper 
obligingly  forwarded  by  the  enterprising  editor)  put  Mr.  Fortescue 
in  a terrible  passion,  which  made  him,  for  a moment,  look  younger 
than  ever  I had  seen  him  look  before.  The  outrage  rekindled  the 
fire  of  his  youth ; he  seemed  to  grow  taller,  his  eyes  glowed  with 
anger,  and,  had  the  enterprising  editor  been  present,  he  would  have 
passed  a very  bad  quarter  of  an  hour. 

“ The  fellow  who  wrote  this  is  worse  than  a murderer  ! ” he  ex- 
claimed. “ I’ll  shoot  him — unless  he  prefers  cold  steel,  and  then  I 


EPILOGUE. 


229 

shall  serve  him  as  I served  General  Griscelii ; and  'pon  my  soul  I 
believe  Griscelii  was  the  least  rascally  of  the  two ! I would  as  lief 
be  hunted  by  blood-hounds  as  be  stabbed  in  the  back  by  anoymous 
slanderers  ! ” 

And  then  he  wanted  me  to  take  a challenge  to  the  enterprising 
editor,  and  arrange  for  a meeting,  which  rendered  it  necessary  to 
remind  him  that  we  were  not  in  the  England  of  fifty  years  ago, 
that  dueling  was  abolished,  and  that  his  traducer  would  not  only 
refuse  to  fight,  but  denounce  his  challenger  to  the  police  and  gibbet 
him  in  his  paper.  I pointed  out,  on  the  other  hand,  that  the  article 
was  clearly  libelous,  and  recommended  Mr.  Fortescue  either  to 
obtain  a criminal  information  against  the  proprietor  of  the  paper, 
or  sue  him  for  damages. 

b “ No>  sir ! ” he  answered,  with  a gesture  of  indignation  and  dis- 
dain “no,  sir,  I shall  neither  obtain  a criminal  information  nor 
sue  for  damages.  The  man  who  goes  to  law  surrenders  his  liberty 
of  action  and  becomes  the  sport  of  chicaning  lawyers  and  hair- 
splitting judges.  I would  rather  lose  a hundred  thousand  pounds  ! ” 

Mr.  Fortescue  passed  the  remainder  of  the  day  at  his  desk,  writ- 
ing and  arranging  his  papers.  The  next  morning  I heard,  without 
surprise,  that  he  and  Ramon  were  going  abroad. 

“ I don’t  know  when  I shall  return,”  said  Mr.  Fortescue,  as  we 
shook  hands  at  the  hall-door,  “ but  act  as  you  always  do  when  I am 
from  home,  and  in  the  course  of  a few  days  you  will  hear  from  me.” 

# * ^ ^ear  fr°m  and  what  I heard  was  of  a nature  so  sur- 
prising as  nearly  to  take  my  breath  away. 

“ You  will  never  see  me  at  Kingscote  again,”  he  wrote  ; “ I am 
going  to  a country  where  I shall  be  safe,  as  well  from  the  attacks  of 
Corsican  assassins  as  from  the  cowardly  outrages  of  rascally  news- 
papers.” And  then  he  gave  instructions  as  to  the  disposal  of  his 
property  at  Kingscote.  Certain  things,  which  he  enumerated,  were 
to  be  packed  up  in  cases  and  forwarded  to  Amsterdam.  The  furni- 
ture and  effects  in  and  about  the  house  were  to  be  sold,  and  the 
proceeds  placed  at  the  disposal  of  the  county  authorities  for  the 
benefit  of  local  charities.  Every  out-door  servant  was  to  receive 
six  months’  pay,  every  in-door  servant  twelve  months’  pay,  in  lieu 
of  notice.  Geirt  was  to  join  Mr.  Fortescue  in  a month’s  time  at 
Damascus ; and  to  me,  in  lieu  of  notice,  and  as  evidence  of  his  re- 
gard, he  gave  all  his  horses,  carriages,  saddlery,  harness,  and  stable 
equipments  (not  being  freehold)  of  every  description  whatsoever,  to 


230 


MR.  FORTE  SC  UE. 


be  dealt  with  as  I thought  fit  for  my  personal  advantage.  His 
solicitors,  with  my  help,  would  wind  up  his  affairs,  and  his  bankers 
had  instructions  to  discharge  all  his  liabilities. 

His  memoirs,  or  so  much  of  them  as  I had  written  down,  I 
might  (if  I thought  they  would  interest  anybody)  publish,  but  not 
before  the  fiftieth  year  of  the  Victorian  era,  or  the  death  of  the 
German  emperor,  whichever  event  happened  first.  The  letter  con- 
cluded thus : “ I strongly  advise  you  to  buy  a practice  and  settle 
down  to  steady  work.  We  may  meet  again.  If  I live  to  be  a hun- 
dred, you  shall  hear  from  me.  If  I die  sooner,  you  will  probably 
hear  of  my  demise  from  the  house  at  Amsterdam,  to  whom  please 
send  your  new  address/' 

I was  exceedingly  sorry  to  lose  Mr.  Fortescue.  Our  intercourse 
had  been  altogether  pleasant  and  agreeable,  and  to  myself  person- 
ally in  a double  sense  profitable ; for  he  had  taught  me  many  things, 
and  rewarded  me  beyond  my  deserts.  Also  the  breaking  up  of 
Kingscote  and  the  disposal  of  the  household  went  much  against 
the  grain.  Yet  I freely  confess  that  Mr.  Fortescue’s  splendid  gift 
proved  a very  effective  one,  and  almost  reconciled  me  to  his  ab- 
sence. 

All  the  horses  and  carriages,  except  five  of  the  former,  and  two 
traps,  I sent  up  to  Tattersalls.  As  the  horses,  without  exception, 
were  of  the  right  sort,  most  of  them  perfect  hunters,  and  it  was 
known  that  Mr.  Fortescue  would  not  have  an  unsound  or  vicious 
animal  in  his  stables,  they  fetched  high  prices.  The  sale  brought 
me  over  six  thousand  pounds.  Two  thirds  of  this  I put  out  at  in- 
terest on  good  security ; with  the  remainder  I bought  a house  and 
practice  in  a part  of  the  county  as  to  which  I will  merely  observe 
that  it  is  pleasantly  situated  and  within  reach  of  three  packs  of 
hounds.  The  greater  part  of  the  year  I work  hard  at  my  profes- 
sion ; but  when  November  comes  round  I engage  a second  assistant 
and  (weather  permitting)  hunt  three  and  sometimes  four  days  a 
week,  so  long  as  the  season  lasts. 

And  often  when  hounds  are  running  hard  and  I am  well  up,  or 
when  I am  “ hacking  ” homeward  after  a good  day’s  sport,  I think 
gratefully  of  the  man  to  whom  I owe  so  much,  and  wonder  whether 
I shall  ever  see  him  again. 


THE  END. 


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